002: I Wish
by Rhiononon
Summary: I wish I was a ruler who who'd make them understand. I wish I was a stranger who understands the sky. Caspian does something about needing Susan. Suspian. Follow up to I Believe.
1. Of Thrown Chairs and Scarves 1

Title: I Wish

Rating: NC-17 (For later stuff)

Author: Rhion - the girl with rainbow hair!

Summery: I wish I was a ruler who who'd make them understand. I wish I was a stranger who understands the sky. Sequel to 'I Believe'.

Disclaimer: Me no own, you no Casue... wait.. I mean.. sue? Yeah sue. You no sue mees.

Feedback: Would be lovely.

A/N: Ahh... I couldn't leave I Believe like that. Besides - I got an evil plot bunny bouncing around in my head. And when I say evil - I mean evil! Think like the bunny Frank from Donnie Darko - sick, evil, twisted... Yet oh so fun! Don't worry, there's a happy ending in the works. I'm a freakin' sucker that way. Oh and this is unbeta'd again.

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(Oooh hey I just figured out what that horizontal ruler button was for - go me!)

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Chapter One

Caspian stared at the canopy of his bed feeling empty. Three years he was alone, three years he had to sit on a throne that no longer meant much to him. He did his duty - he ruled as fairly as he could. But every small victory in bringing the Telmarine and Narnian peoples together tasted of ashes in his mouth. For every sacrifice he was willing to make daily for his countrymen - of any ilk - the only reward he received was this cold bed.

Rolling over he tugged a pillow to his chest, wrapping himself around it as though it were Susan, closing his eyes in an attempt to recall exactly how she felt laying in his arms. The bedding of course no longer smelled like her, like them, but this was all he had to cling to. In the end everything got taken from him - everything that mattered. His father whom he'd loved, his sense of security when Miraz ordered his death, his ignorance as he found out Narnian's were alive and well, his innocence when his blade had cleaved into the first living body for the first time. And last... oh but certainly never least, no never least at all - he lost Susan. His heart. His hope. His life. His soul. His future. His Queen. With a snarl Caspian vaulted from bed unable to take it a moment longer. Uncaring of his nudity he paced, his bare feet slapping on the chilled flagstones of his floor.

"Damn you! Take you all!" reaching out and heaving a chair across the room.

A testament to how sturdy the construction was the fact that this was the tenth time that the poor piece of furniture suffered his wrath and was still intact. It was also a testament to Caspian's plight that no guard had rushed in to check the commotion. Whirling to look at the door half hoping that someone would come to distract him, his gaze slid to the floor in front of the heavy oaken door. Clenching his eyes closed as the image of Susan's legs spread, her cheeks flushed from his touches, while she moaned for him forced itself into his mind's eye.

He was going insane, slowly, surely and there was nothing he could do about it. That was his only conclusion. Every now and then he hated her, hated how he couldn't forget her laugh, the fierceness she had glittering beneath the surface of her gentleness. But it would only last a second, before it changed into a bitter and dark resentment towards Aslan. How could the great lion have planned for Susan and he to meet, to fall in love, and then tear them apart? Aslan had left immediately after the crowd had dispersed, not allowing Caspian the time to make his case to Him. Even so Caspian had kept faith with his duty to Narnia and to Aslan - but it didn't mean he had to like it.

Unaware of the fightful sight he made when in one of his rages, Caspian opened his door to order the guard there, "Get me the Professor."

"At once Majesty," it was curt and carried out immediately.

That's what he had to do, Caspian realized - he had to make Aslan understand what he was going through. Because even as infuriated as he was, Caspian noticed the flash of fear in his sentry's eyes, the normally gentle and kind ruler by day now almost a tyrant by night. A moment of shame almost brought Caspian back to reality, back to a point where he would go back and lay in that empty bed, and force himself to live another day on duty alone. But the anger came roaring back in a second, shoving aside the shame - because it was Aslan who should be ashamed! Ashamed at His cruelty! Humiliated by His wrongdoing! Mortified by His shortsightedness!

Without noticing it Caspian was stomping from one end of his chambers to the other, shouting all this aloud, tears of anger leaving hot tracks down his cheeks. It was only when the loud knock on his door startled him from his internal rampage did he stop, arms flung in the air gesticulating to no one and no thing at all. Suddenly he was glad that most of this end of the hall remained empty at all times, and tried to gather himself into some semblance of calm.

"My liege," Dr. Cornelius opened his door, taking in his state and the state of his rooms. "You called?"

Clearing his throat, Caspian picked up the abused chair he'd thrown earlier, "Yes Professor, I did." Waving to the chair, "Please sit Professor, I am sorry to have awoken you at this hour."

Dr. Cornelius nodded, turning a blind eye to Caspian's state, for which Caspian was grateful, "My boy, it is no trouble at all. You know that I am ever at your disposal. Particularly when your mind is troubled."

Caspian growled at the fresh reminder then got a reign on his temper, and started to dig in his wardrobe, throwing over his shoulder, "Aye, troubled it is." His fingers brushed over the softest of silks, and his eyes squeezed closed, trying to ignore Susan's dress hanging next to his formal doublet. Grabbing a long shirt he tugged it over his head, and was unable to help his reflexive grab for a sheer blue scarf that still held traces of her scent on them, "I miss her."

"I know my son," and Caspian was ever thankful that his one time tutor didn't play coy on the subject. "How may I help?"

Bringing the soft fabric to his nose, Caspian inhaled, a tear slipping unnoticed from his eye, "How can I bring her back? There must be some way, some thing that I can do. I must know what it is Professor. I do not think I can last much longer like this." Turning to look at him, "How could Aslan do this to me? To her? To us? I am going insane, the spiral is out of control Professor. And there is naught I can do."

"Have you thought of speaking with Aslan?"

Releasing a bitter laugh that was out of place in one so young, "Oh aye I speak to Him quite often! But He hears me not at all. His care is for His people, but it has become apparent to me that I am not one of them. For He has abandoned me." Catching the look on the older man's face, "You do not think this to be so? Then tell me, how has Aslan not left me, uncaring for the sacrifice I give daily, I live without thanks, I ask for none. I ask only for love, and yet do I receive it? No. Not at all."

"Your people love you," and before Caspian could interrupt, "And I love you, for you are the son of my heart if not my flesh. And Aslan loves you even if you can not see it."

Caspian pursed his lips, his brows low over his glittering eyes, "That is not what I mean. It is not what sustains me. The air I need to breathe is gone from Narnia, the reason for living is absent. And what of my purpose? Oh how far it has fled, to this land of Spar Oom and War Drobe."

Silence was as loud as a drum in Caspian's room, his gaze fixed on the scrap of cloth in his hand, the intricate silver embroidery catching and reflecting the moonlight. It reminded him of her eyes, so pale a blue at times to almost be silver, and others so deep and dark like the sea. Wrapping the scarf around his hand he brought it back up to his nose, savouring the subtle hints that barely clung to it. How much longer would her things still carry her perfume? Not for much more time, not if it was already so faded. And when that time came, he would only have her memory, a horn, and an empty bed to comfort him.

A broken sob wracked his once robust frame, and it just now occurred how thin he had become, for no food held any flavour any longer.

"You must go to Aslan then since He has not come to you."

His head snapped up, pinning the Professor with a stare, "To Aslan?" Something that suspiciously felt like hope started to take root in his heart, "How?"

"Aslan's Country is across the sea," Dr. Corneilous' face was tense, his gaze turned inward as he thought long and hard.

"Then that is where I shall go," Caspian got up and paced, a manic gleam in his onyx eyes. "I will make Him listen to me! One way or another, He will _have_ to do something. For I shall not suffer this indignity another day! I am High King and that is that! He ceded me control of Narnia then that means I deserve something, and He shall grant it for there is nothing that will ever stop me!"

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AN: Thank you all for those who reviewed the first part of this 'I Believe', it's very appreciated! So don't worry, while there's some angst here, it's got some light at the end of the tunnel. Next chapter starts with either Edmund or Susan (haven't decided yet), but input is more than welcome, and encouraged. I do have a definate idea of where all this is going and whatnot, so.. yeah...

PS: The summary's are taken from the song's "I Believe" and "I Wish" by Franke Potente (Run Lola Run).


	2. Edmund's Bathroom Talk 2

Chapter Two: Edmund's Bathroom Talk

AN: Dear god this SUCKS! My computer crashed when I was 90 done with this chapter, and I lost it all! Man I hate technology sometimes. **pats laptop lovingly** Not you my precious, nope, I love you plenty, it's just the crashing... You gotta stop that! Mommy's busy writing and there you go and make her loose all her work!

So I'm sorry this is late, but I had to try and retype it from memory. **sighs.**

Also if you have not read I Believe, then I think this story in general won't make a lick of sense. So go do that first if you haven't already - you won't regret it. But I am told you'll need a drool bucket and something to wipe the steam from your screens. That's the word on the street.

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"Su?" Edmund checked in a last time on his older sister. "Can I get you anything?"

Shaking her head, "No I'm fine Ed, I just need to be alone."

Frowning as he watched Susan brush her teeth, her skin pasty and covered in a fine sheen of sweat, he came into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him. "Su, you're always alone. I'm here you know? We're all here, but..."

"Look I don't want to talk about it Ed, I'm sorry," as she spit the foamy toothpaste from her mouth, the squeak of the faucet as she turned the water on to rinse it down the drain.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Edmund leaned against the door watching her. Studying how slow and careful her movements were. He knew that something was off, way off, and couldn't quite place his finger on what. Susan wasn't simply pining, he was sure of it. Rubbing his chin with a forefinger Edmund waited in silence trying to wait Susan out, to see if he could force her to tell him what else was wrong.

"You know you'll have to talk about it at some point," once he realized that no response was forthcoming.

Susan's hands smoothed her hair down, while she studiously didn't look at him, then with a sigh, "All I ever see is his face. And every time I see a dark-haired man, I expect him to turn around and have it be... Caspian."

Edmund perked up careful to listen to not just the words, but the inflection, and the things left unsaid.

"It must happen alot then," offering his sympathy.

Two fingers went to her mouth, touching them lightly as she spoke, "It does. And... I still feel his hands Ed, I can still hear his voice."

Nodding he understood more than she was aware, for the faraway look in her tired blue eyes, as though she were seeing some far off vista, visiting a tender painful memory. Sometimes it was like that for him when he thought of Narnia in general, but he knew his heart wasn't there the same way as Susan's was. Times like this he found himself fearing for her, like the only thing that kept Susan going was sheer willpower and the knowledge that Caspian wouldn't want her to give up on life. Sitting on the edge of the tub, he wrapped an arm around her narrow shoulders, making her lean into him. With a wrenching sob, Susan's hands tangled in his shirt as she started to sob, great heaving things that left her panting for each breath. It was all Edmund could do to not join in her tears, because her pain was his pain, and all he could do was try his best to comfort her.

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"C'mon Luce, hurry up," Edmund was tired, he'd had a rough night trying to make Susan feel better.

"I'm coming!" as she ran up to catch hold of his hand, her hair in pigtails. "So where are we going today?!"

A small smile graced his face as he looked at his little sister, "I thought we may go to the museum today, they have some paintings up you might like."

"Really? Oh that's wonderful Ed," her sunny exuberance refreshing and a balm on his weary soul. "Ed," she sounded hesitant then apparently came to a decision and forged ahead, "when we finally get to go back to Narnia, we have to talk to Aslan."

Glancing at her in surprise, for the gravity of her tone indicated a more than casual talk with Him, "What makes you say that?"

She didn't speak, but just continued walking with him, swinging their joined hands back and forth. From the corner of his eye, Edmund watched her staring at her shiny little black shoes deep in thought. It wasn't that he thought Lucy wasn't a deep thinker, just that her bearing was far more serious than the usual. Hoping that nothing was wrong with her, because he didn't think he could help at all at this point if there was, Edmund just squeezed her small hand and waited her out. With a little bit of time Lucy would come to whatever conclusion she needed to and would tell him. Minutes passed as he bypassed the occasional pothole or fellow pedestrian, and he held in a sigh of resignation. If even Lucy who was normally sweetness and light could be brought low by their last trip to Narnia, then he was at a loss for what to do. He was only one man... well.. man-boy.. and there was only so much he could do to help his beloved siblings.

"I - I think Aslan made a mistake," and she sounded truly frightened. Her belief must have been soundly rocked to the foundation if she was able to say that.

Swallowing down his dread, "Aslan doesn't make mistakes."

Lucy pulled him to a stop, looking up at him, head tilted back so far her hat almost flew off, "Everyone does."

"True," patting the top of her hat down so it would stay more firmly, "but it's not His nature I don't think, Luce."

Her mouth worked as her eyebrows went up and down in thought then with a nod, "He did with us. We shouldn't have come back here Edmund. We don't belong."

"I know Luce, I know," urging her to come along with him once again, as they headed for the art museum.

And he couldn't help the fear that sat heavy in his stomach, because even Lucy now felt that Aslan was wrong, and if that was the case... What hope did they have of fixing it?

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The water was dragging him down, choking him. Frantically he searched through the waves, bobbing about madly trying to find sign of Lucy, for she couldn't really swim at all. Not that he was such a fine swimmer himself, but he managed. Just as he was starting to loose hope, a figure was cutting through the waves, heading straight for the flailing form of his baby sister. A feeling of relief washed over him - along with a particularly vicious swell - once he saw that Lucy was in good hands, and focused on staying afloat himself. What seemed like only tortuously long seconds passed, but must have been minutes, and their saviour bobbed up next to him.

"Do not fight, I am here to help!" the voice was familiar, with it's heavy accent, though at the moment Edmund couldn't focus on more than that, as a strong arm wrapped around his middle.

Going limp so as to not hinder the man as he was dragged towards a beautiful ship. A rope was lowered down to him, and taking hold of it gratefully, Edmund hung on for dear life as he was pulled up to the deck. Collapsing on the wood, coughing and sputtering he looked around for Lucy.

Choking out, "Lucy?"

"The Queen is safe," a hand patted his back firmly, an attempt to help him clear his lungs of the sour saltwater as a blanket was thrown over him in hopes of stilling his shaking.

Nodding even as his eyes teared from the stinging, Edmund managed to gather himself enough to look around. Caspian was drenched, panting tiredly as he shucked his sopping wet shirt. Getting a good look at him, Edmund was shocked. The young king looked ragged, as though he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in ages, his face thinner than he remembered. Frowning while Caspian flopped next to him, staring up at the sky, his dusky skin peeling in places from sunburn, Edmund tried to figure out how long it had been for Narnia.

"You look like shit," his usual tact was absent, but Edmund felt no need to pussyfoot around with his friend.

Nostrils flared in irritation and his hardened eyes glittered, "Good to see you too King Edmund."

Before Edmund could ask why in the name of all that was holy why the swordsman looked so terrible, Lucy interrupted by tackling Caspian with a happy squeal.

"Caspian!" hugging him as though her life depended on it, "Oh it is ever so good to see you!"

Laughing, "Haha, and it is good to see you as well my little Queen." With what Edmund suspected was the first genuine smile Caspian's face had born in ages, "My, have you grown my little Valiant One?"

Lucy sat back shaking her head, her cheeks rosy and pinched up her smile was so wide, "Nooo! It's only been three months! You don't grow fast in three months!"

Rolling his eys, "Don't you remember how you had to get new uniforms last year because you got taller over the summer? That was only two months Luce."

"Thhpt!"

"Three months you say? Three months... maybe... maybe she still..." Caspian's gaze went distant, his arms flexing hard around Lucy in a bear hug.

Tugging his blanket around him, "How long has it been for Narnia?"

His dark head whipped around, wet locks lashing as Caspian's wild eyes narrowed on him, "Three years."

And Edmund had his answer as to why his friend looked like hell, as his own heart broke for Caspian knowing that he'd been suffering for far longer than Susan. All alone.

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AN: Well I had intended to make this longer but I felt it was a good place to leave it. That and the whole having the 'puter crash put a damper on it sorta. Comments? Questions? Ideas? Ben Barnes? Feel free to give me any of these things, just go clickyclickyclicky on the wittle button down dere. **points** . Encouragement helps me get through the whole stalling of my brain. Think of it like when you put petrol in your car - this is petrol for my brain. And thanks again to all who've reviewed, I'm eternally grateful and would hand out tons of Ben Barnes and Caspian's if I could just figure out how to make my cloning machine work...


	3. Caspian's Me Time 3

Chapter Three

Caspian's Me Time

AN: Well lesseee... I decided I had to justify that NC-17 rating **winks**so folks, get your steam goggles, and also you may want some tissues - because I know I illicited a few tears - I seem to be good at that - on Caspian's behalf. And I'm growing rather fond of Edmund, I decided long ago though that I definitely like him better than Peter. Peter just tries too hard to be a man, instead of just _being_one, like Edmund does. Ed just kinda does what has to be done, picks up the slack and protects everyone's back. Like he said earlier - he really should've been the eldest. Then again - Pete would have no use being the other middle child. He's too bullheaded for that. Should just wear a big target on him - he's good at shielding them, but terrible at picking up the pieces. But I'll get to him a bit later. And of course Lucy is still cute little Lucy, even though she isn't really so little as she seems... And I'll get to _that_ later too. As for Caspian - we get to see more UnhingedAndRailingAtGod!Caspian. He's good at that.

AN2: Dangit, I can't remember where I saw today the note that said "..I'd have held out for Susan the Violent if it'd been me..." because it made me bust my gut laughing. And it's oh so very true! Anyone who can remember it, tell me so that I can properly credit the author - plus I just want to giggle like a madcap at that again.

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"Check," Caspian had Edmund good and pinned.

Watching his young friend - or old depending on how one looked at it - rubbed his chin, probably trying to muster up a move that would make Caspian loose this round. It had been ages since Caspian had had a good game, and this brought back memories of when the two of them would sit and go back and forth at Aslan's How. Leaning on his elbows, he studied the board himself trying to ignore the burning questions on his mind.

While moving a bishop to block Caspian's queen, "So how is Narnia faring?"

Sighing, "It does well most days. Though there was a bit of trouble with giants a year ago. Beyond that it has been very quiet." Moving another piece to threaten Edmund's king again, "The bureaucracy does become trying at times. If I wanted a rebellion on my hands I would simply remove the lords who are difficult, but," glowering as Edmund took one of his knights, "change does not work that way unfortunately. Despite that minor difficulty I have been able to forge a strong enough peace between the upper echelon Telmarines and the Narnians."

"Checkmate," without Caspian realizing it, Edmund had pinned his king. "You're rusty."

Conceding defeat, "I have little time between the paperwork and settling of disputes to practice, I am afraid."

Edmund smiled at him, "It's like that sometimes. It can be a bore." Pouring himself a glass of wine, "You could ask me how she's doing you know, old chap instead of talking politics."

His shoulders tensed as he licked his lips while his heart trembled, "I do not... know what to ask first."

Stretching his back until there were several loud pops from the younger man's spine, "Guess that could be a problem then."

"Is she," swallowing past the lump in his throat, "is she well?"

"Depends on what you call well, Caspian." With grunt the youth shifted around on the chair, "She keeps her own council most days. But Susan is like that sometimes."

There was something wrong with Edmund's tone, one that held much sadness. Becoming alarmed, "What is wrong with," forcing his mouth to say her name for the first time in years, "Susan?"

At that Edmund closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples, "A complaint of the heart maybe. Or of the soul. She lives but..."

"But what?"

"But there's little will left to her Caspian. Su's heart's broken I think. And I can't do anything about it. What's worse - she's not the only one," shaking his head. "I'm so far at a loss my friend, that I don't know what to do for them anymore. Peter doesn't fight as much, but it's because he doesn't have the energy to it seems. And Lucy..."

These were his family for all intents and purposes, and to think that they were suffering hurt him, "Is there something I can do?" Leaning forward over the small table to grasp Edmund's arm, "If there is, please, allow me to. You and yours, are my family, my blood, even if not by birth."

Patting his hand, "I know. By god it's good to be able to talk to someone about it."

"So, tell me what is wrong with Queen Lucy? She appeared in good spirits earlier," raking his fingers through his hair.

"Yeah, for how long?"

Not understanding, "Unfortunately my brother, I do not catch your meaning."

"When we leave Caspian - how will she recover from it? And, I'm scared too - I don't think I can take leaving again either. How will I face Peter knowing that I've been back, and he's still there, in England, without purpose? Or... Susan? How can I face her Caspian?" the normally stoic king was hanging his head, and what looked suspiciously like tears graced his cheeks, "Oh god Caspian, how can I be here when Susan is the one who needs it the most? More than any of us? She's sick Caspian, I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what to do, I can't keep them together, and I can't protect them anymore! I'm trying and trying and trying, and nothing I do helps, it just keeps them going a bit longer... but for how long? How long?!"

Caspian was in shock, and moved to envelope Edmund in a tight hug, "I do not know the answers to everything, because I am just a man. But, my friend, you have done so much for them. And for me," patting his back, his feelings almost paternal in that moment, "and that is all that can be done at this time. But is it not true that each time you are here, that Aslan speaks with you?"

"Well, yes," as Edmund began to collect himself, his need to vent out all the built up frustration now seen to.

"Then you must speak with Him," his tone fervent, "and I am sure that we _will_ see Him, for we both have cases to make to Him. And there is much umbrage to take against Him as well at this time. For how much have you sacrificed to Narnia in His name? Yet there has been no just reward. Being a king or queen has little joy either, yet, still it is a duty and an honour." Now Caspian was standing again, pacing as he was now wont to do, "I myself would give almost anything He asked of me, my life, my time, my _everything_, yet He still took the one thing that mattered to me." Waving his hand about madly, "He took my _wife_, my heart, my soul, my purpose and my will to live! That is no reward for one who gives so much!" Jabbing a finger as his anger rose, "And you! He took from you your rightful place! And Peter! From him, He took his resolve, his honour, and gave nothing for it! From Lucy, He destroyed her faith! And from Susan..." Caspian halted in his tirade, giving a full body shiver, "I can not name all He took from her." Pressing his hands to his face, covering his eyes in shame, "I should not hate Him. But I do. I do now, where once I loved Him. My own faith is destroyed, because Edmund - everything happens according to His will."

Glancing between his fingers he saw Edmund's lips purse, a worried grimace on his face, "You think Aslan wants us to suffer?"

Shaking his head, "I know not anymore, for I am a mere man, one who has long since slid deep into madness," letting out a harsh bark of empty laughter, "Which should be readily apparent I should think."

Lucy knocked on the door, popping her head in, dressed in one of Caspian's shirts, which was too large for her. Knuckling at an eye, she came in farther, looking tiny and innocent as she plunked on Caspian's now vacant chair. She was a semi welcome interruption, for Caspian didn't like dwelling on the insanity that had eaten away at his resolve to do his duty and be a good king as per Aslan's wishes.

Yawning and grabbing at Edmund's goblet, "I want a bedtime story," the words interspersed with slurping.

"You're too young to drink that Luce!" snatching back his glass.

"Am not, I'm um..." she paused face scrunched, "I'm almost thirty! Give or take a thousand years..."

This surprised a chuckle out of Caspian, and the sound startled him, for he'd come close to forgetting how to. Giving her a tiny bow, "Well then my little Queen, I offer my paltry services as a storyteller unto you, if it is your wish."

The twelve year old twenty something queen cocked her head in mock thought, "Then I respectfully accept your offer good king!" Giggling she hopped off the chair and grabbed his hand, dragging Caspian away to tuck her in for the night.

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Thinking that the tiny queen was a soothing balm to his ravaged heart, he had done his best to act as much a good older brother that he could. For his reward in tucking her in, he got a hug and "You know Susan loves you still, no matter what," before she drifted off. If only gaining his own rest in his quiet room was as easy as a bedtime story, sheets tucked up around his chin, and a kiss on the forehead, Caspian's life would be filled with much less effort.

Rolling over with a sigh, he got up to search through his travel trunk. Digging until he found what he was looking for - Susan's dress from their night of lovemaking- he hugged it to his chest. What he had told Edmund was true, Aslan _had_ taken his wife from him, because in his mind, that night was a celebration of the marriage bed. The only bed either would grace, the place where their children were to be sired, the place where their love was to be reinforced with gentle touches and soft sighs. Despite the fact that it had not been official, to Caspian that was their wedding night, for that night he had let all of his defences drop, had allowed someone to see to his very depths. And Susan had done the same. Unable to stop the memories - and unwilling to try this night, for he needed the bitter comfort they gave him - Caspian inhaled the soft fragrance that clung heavier to this garment of hers than the rest.

And he let himself remember that night...

* * *

He'd awoken to the softest of curves pressed against him, and the scent of sex thick in the air. Opening his eyes, Caspian saw a mass of wavy chestnut hair, and a paler than fresh cream shoulder. Smiling as he stretched slowly, running his hand over her round hip in a wonder filled caress, he let out a soft moan of contentment. All was right in his world, because in his arms _was_ his world. Never in a million years had he thought to even dare hope for love to be made in this bed. It had long been his belief that he would have some political marriage, and only mechanically do his duty in siring heirs. That had been the only upside to his thinking about marriage - even if his wife hadn't loved him; or he her, their children would be their own to love and be loved by. Instead what Caspian now had laying next to him in this bed was the most magnificent woman in any world.

True it had only been a few months that they had shared their lives, and much of it had been filled with battle, or plans for battle, but in that brief period he had seen his match. Caspian couldn't help but admire Susan's beauty at first blush - as well as her ferociousness as she'd aimed her arrow at him on their first meeting - and the way those lips had smiled coyly at him. They were just made for kissing and fleshly thoughts. But that had only been his first thoughts about her, and as he had come to know the Gentle Queen, Caspian thought at times that perhaps 'Gentle' wasn't a good moniker for her. 'Violent' or 'Headstrong' or 'Fierce' or even 'Strong' would have suited much better. Until that is, he had found Susan tending a centaur with vicious wounds from a nasty fall, her voice low and soothing, up to her elbows in liniment. How her face had shone with a softness and love for the helping of others. Maybe that was when he started to not be in awe of her, and looked to the woman beneath all the veneer of royalty. To him, the truest name for Susan would ever be Susan the Fair, for she was in as many ways as a man could think of. Fair in her treatment of others, fair in her looks, fair in how she protected all that surrounded her.

Snuggling closer, his hands slowly re-exploring every soft plane, Caspian buried his face in Susan's mussed mane. Brushing his fingers over the downy springy hairs at the apex of her sex, still moist from their earlier intimacy, and his face brightened further. The happy smile turned wicked as he delved through her cleft, searching out the sensitive bundle of nerves, to stroke it while his lips ghosted over her shoulder.

Purring low, "What do you think you're doing?" her voice warm with sleep, even as her leg slid back over his to give him better access.

"Invading a wondrous land," her flesh was so slick under the pads of his fingers, feeling like a mixture of velvet and silk at the same time. Caspian didn't think anything could be much better than touching her, unless it was feeling her lips against his, or thrusting inside of Susan's secret places. Or tasting her - he definitely liked that.

"And how pray tell do you plan on dealing with my," she let out a tiny gasp as he sped his ministrations up, while pressing his erection to her backside, "defenses?"

Nibbling the lobe of her ear, "Surprise attack by night. That would be how I have caught you unawares," pushing a digit inside her, massaging the inner ridges while his thumb toyed happily with her clitoris. The arm Caspian was laying on wiggled underneath her, to cup and fondle her breasts, tweaking and teasing them, alternating between the two.

By now Susan was sensuously writhing in his arms, her head pressed back against him, and the full curve of her bottom tortured his prick with every motion. Groaning low into her neck, Caspian ground himself against her so that she could feel what she did to him, even as she whimpered in pleasure. Susan's hand reached back to dig her fingers into his hip, urging him to greater ardour.

"Then I suppose I've been conquered," her sigh was rife with pleasure while he continued to ravish the deepest of her body's secrets with his hand.

At that Caspian paused, not liking that word, "Susan, I would never wish for you to be conquered. You are too good for that, and I shall never repress all that vivacious life you have bursting from you." He allowed her to roll over to look at him, though the moon had set and the only light that came through his windows was that of torches in the courtyard below. "I would love you as you are, and only as much as you would allow me. There is nothing in me that could let me justify changing you in any way. You are as you are, and that is more than enough for me."

"Caspian," and those gorgeous hands of hers cupped his cheeks, the tenderness there came close to unmanning him, for no one had ever made him feel more loved, more good, more strong than she could by just saying his name. There was always such a wealth of meaning, and Caspian always knew what Susan was feeling towards him by how she uttered his name. Full lips captured his, the slick muscle of her tongue twining with his and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes, for he never thought he could be so loved. "I didn't think men like you existed Caspian," the words were puffed against his mouth, as her fingers massaged his scalp, "And I don't know how you can be so good, so wonderful. Or how you can say the things you say, and make me believe them."

Pulling her closer, Caspian nuzzled her face with his, "My words are poor reflections of what I feel."

Susan's laugh was light yet watery, "God, if this is a 'poor reflection', then you must shine brighter than the sun." In a flash, Caspian found himself on his back, as she straddled him, her hair hanging over his face as she leaned into him, "You're a bit overwhelming you know. I don't know how to react when you say such things to me Caspian."

Wrapping his hands around her waist, then allowing them to travel the feminine expanse of her back, "You do not wish for me to tell -?"

Cutting him off with another kiss, Caspian forgot momentarily what he was going to say, "Many men have written me poetry, said as many flowery things as they could conjure up. But not a one said it the way you do Caspian, because unlike them, you mean it."

His ability to think coherently was robbed from him as Susan slid him home into her body, swaying over him with gentle rocking motions. All Caspian could muster was a heartfelt groan, even as Susan whispered sweetly into his ear, each of her sighs a benediction on the wind. Regaining some semblance of awareness other than the slick tightening of the smooth channel that was wrapped around his cock, Caspian began to participate more fully in their lovemaking. Rubbing his hands all over her thighs, and hips and stomach, then caressing her full breasts, Caspian thrust upwards with and against Susan. Both now were letting out the sounds of need and acceptance as they pushed each-other higher and closer to that shining point that started from where their two sexes were linked.

"Caspian!" Susan whined as her movements became frantic, and his grip on her tightened, pulling her and pushing her along the heavy length that he plunged up into her.

Her muscles were fluttering around him, milking him, while her fingers dug into his shoulders, and it was a fight to not loose it right there. Keeping a reign on his excstacy for all he was worth, Caspian continued even though he was going mad with pleasure. At the moment he didn't care how loud he was getting, even as he was calling out Susan's name until his voice was hoarse, and every upwards buck forced a delighted squeal from Susan, their combined bliss mounting. Susan muffled her scream as orgasm rocketed through her by biting into his shoulder, but Caspian couldn't care less, he was flying, flying higher and falling all at once, his mind exploding in a kaleidoscope of colours as he spilled his seed deep. Driving himself into her and holding her locked to him, Caspian arched his back, roaring as the world was destroyed around him. And the only human part of him left was hoping that her body accepted the life he had poured into her.

Feeling very pleased with his performance when Susan muttered out, "Wow," several times as he came back to reality, Caspian grinned in the dark.

"Heh, liked that did you?"

Susan swatted him, "Oh like you didn't!"

Tugging her down into another kiss, "I like it better each time with you."

With a giggle, Susan flopped over, her body still tangled with his, "And I like it better each time with you."

Laughing they cuddled for long minutes before sleep once again overtook them.

* * *

The memory was agony for Caspian, but it was a good agony, as his hand pumped up and down his shaft. It's weight was heavy and swollen, for it had been a while since he'd last tortured himself with these images, that were made so much more intense by Susan's perfume on her dress that he held to his face while doing this. Satisfaction came in a thick strands, as he panted out her name until his body was spent. As he came back to the here and now, the pain came back that much more horribly, crushing him until he thought he could no longer breathe. Gasping as though he were a drowning man, Caspian cried into Susan's dress, wishing more than anything that it was her, and not some wad of fabric. Another empty night, another empty satisfaction, and another empty moment, but for now it was all he had...

* * *

AN: Wow tons of alerts, tons of reviews. Man I don't think you guys know what this means to me! Talk about instant gratification! Okay I normally love to respond to each person, and I will, I promise, I'm just a touch busy with housework, work-work, and writing this at the moment. So for those who I haven't thanked personally yet, here's my thanks and appreciation - hopefully you'll accept a raincheck on individual thanks for a few days - THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU! Oh and I'm doing a happydance. Does that work for now?

Oh and to those who haven't reviewed but read it anyway - thank you as well. All of you are why I continue to write this piece, because frankly the whole thing's pretty much worked out plotwise in my head - I know how it ends, but do you? So this being written is more for you all than for me, because I want to share with those of you who've taken the time to go over this, to review it, to favorite it, or alert it - as my humble thanks for your enjoyment of my work.

And remember: If you have reviews, critiques, suggestions, questions, flames, Ben Barnes, Caspian, or a functioning cloning machine - feel free to send them my way. I'll give you homemade cake/cookies/dinner. Or just some more fic - take your pick.


	4. Liver and Onions 4

Chapter Four

Liver and Onions

AN: And let's get to some England stuff... While true no real time passes in England while Edmund and Lucy are in Narnia, they have been gone for a bit in England's time because of the walk to the art museum. Oh and for those who're wondering - because I didn't go into detail about it - HOW Ed and Luce got to Narnia this time - it's sorta the same as the book. They saw a painting, and got sucked in. No Eustace though, and it was at an art museum. I like my way better, that way I can focus on the relationships of the 4 Pevensies and their interactions, as well as the Pevensie/Caspian interactions. Bleh. Again this is totally unbeta'd. Any takers? I'm always finding mistakes... And word redundancies. Yeesh pet peeve alert, I hate that so much. Makes me wanna scream.

* * *

The smells from the kitchen were awful. Choking on a gag, Susan tried to make her way back to her room as suripticiously as possible before Peter - the only other one in the house at the moment - noticed her. Forgetting to sidestep that creaky board, it let out a terrible squeak. Freezing on the stairs, a hand pressed to her mouth, in a vain hope to keep in her last meal, Susan waited on baited breath, hoping against hope that Peter was too busy mutilating whatever the hell he was cooking. Minutes ticked by and Peter didn't come to check on the noise. With a sigh of relief Susan continued upstairs, with more caution this time.

Reaching the relative safety of her room, Susan went to lay down, the nausea of earlier almost forgotten. The bed was familiar but felt all wrong after so much of her mind's life had rested on the broad thick mattresses over woven leather supports of Narnian beds. Despite that Susan didn't bother taking off her shoes as she lay down, trying to get comfortable. It was difficult to not think, to not remember, but for the time being she was able to blank her mind as she stared at the ceiling with it's lemon cream paint.

Unfortunately it was inevitable that her fatigued body would remind her that she had to pee yet again. Grumbling as she rolled over, her hair in it's severe French braid that felt too tight, resting heavily at the nape of her neck, Susan gave herself a gentle heave to become vertical. Sometimes she hated Caspian for this, or Aslan for forcing her to leave. But mostly she was too tired to hate anything, to feel anything other than trepidation, fear, and worry. There was a heavy knock on her door, and Susan caught the scent of whatever monstrous creation Peter had been birthing like a mad scientist. Trying to only use shallow breaths, she straightened her appearance as much as she could. It wouldn't due to have Peter notice that she wasn't herself. He'd only try and fix it.

"Susan?" Peter opened the door, poking his head in, a distracted smile on his face.

Doing her best to return it, "Yes?"

The door opened the rest of the way, and Peter had a hand behind his back hiding something, "I was wondering how you're feeling today...?" Coming into her room, and pushing his shaggy bangs off his forehead, "Thought maybe you and I could do something together, I think it'd be good for us. Don't you?"

"I'm fine, but I feel rather tired," hoping she didn't look as green as she felt. "Maybe tomorrow."

Peter came even closer and the stench on him became even stronger if it were possible. He just grunted, his stormy blue eyes squinting as he studied her. "You haven't been eating."

"So? Is that what you wanted to do together?"

"Well, yes it did cross my mind. Dinner, a walk, some talking... You know, like we used to," he kept on moving towards her, and it took all of Susan's willpower to not flee or back away from him.

"I'm not really hungry Peter, I'm sorry."

Peter frowned, and brought out what he was hiding finally, offering it up, "But it's your favorite. Liver and onions. You can never resist it."

Barely glancing down at the plate in his hand, heavily laden with thick slices of liver covered in buttered onions, and Susan strangled on air. It looked disgusting. Panting as her body rebelled, Susan didn't even make it two steps before doubling over voiding the contents of her abused stomach.

"Oh god!" clutching her abdomen with one hand, the other lashed out knocking the offensive meal away from her. "Get that thing away from, urp, oh god," heaving once more.

"Su!" Peter dropped the plate, and put his arm around her trying to keep her upright.

Susan could feel Peter looking around for what to do, and then settled on carrying her to the bathroom. Even though the trip was short, it was far too bumpy for Susan who's body was so worn, just as frayed as her spirit. Water ran, the sound loud as Peter dampened a cloth to press the back of her neck, while she spit repeatedly into the porcelain bowl, wishing nothing more than for the burning to stop.

"It's alright Susan, I'm here," Peter crooned as he tended her with a gentleness that she hadn't even realized she missed.

Coughing as she got her body back under control, "I'm fine."

Sitting up, she allowed him to wipe her face clean, her bright blue eyes closed, just trying to maintain some kind of dignity after her display. How was she going to explain this?

"You know," he said absentmindedly, "the whole castle heard you two that night."

Susan's gaze snapped to him, but he wasn't looking at her directly, just watching his hand as he continued to ministraitions, "What?"

"At first I thought you were being murdered, but Edmund stopped me long enough for me to realize what was going on." Now he looked at her, his face sad and disappointed, "I almost kicked down the door anyway."

"You'd have no right to do that," cheeks flushing with irritation.

With a sigh, "Wouldn't I? Lucy was scared, she didn't understand what was going on, and for the second time I had to explain the birds and the bees to her. The first time was hard enough you know, when she hit puberty in Narnia. But doing it again - not fun Su." Watching as he levered himself up to wring out the washcloth and rinse it out then kneeling back down, "At first I was angry, hadn't Caspian taken enough from me? But it wasn't his fault, so I couldn't stay mad."

The texture on her face was rough, but Susan leaned into it anyway, just needing human contact, "Well I'm glad you see it my way. He..." stumbling when she realized she couldn't bring herself to utter his name, Susan felt a tear escape.

"I know Su, I know," as Peter tugged her into a hug, then got them standing again.

Leaning on him heavily as they walked down the hall again, bypassing her room with that disgusting smelling food in it, she found herself flopping on Peter's bed like when they were little. She felt so weak, so drained. Like all of her courage and strength had been sucked from her very soul and left behind.

"Do you think he's happy?" her voice cracked.

Peter paced, his hands clasped behind his back, staring down at the floor, "He probably had a good life, I'm sure Su."

Perking up to glare at him, "Had? Why..."

"Susan, it's been three months. More than three hundred years has passed in Narnia," he cut her off, "he's dead Susan. You're carrying a dead man's child. It'll be just like him - fatherless."

At that Susan bolted up, her fist winding back rocketing forward, to nail Peter so hard in the face his nose crunched beneath her hand, "Don't you say that! Don't!" Her voice climbed in octave and volume as she railed, "He's not dead! He _can't_ be! He just can't!"

Peter was on the floor, shaking off the reaction to her strike, ignoring the trickle of blood coming from his nostril, "Susan, he's dead. You have to face that. The father of your child is dead." Susan's hand started to lash out for another punch, but Peter caught her wrists, yanking her into his arms, "But I won't let you or that baby die. I won't let life take anything else from you Susan."

Struggling in his arms, trying to fight off the anger and pain and soul rending that her heart was going through, "My life's nothing without him. It's stupid I know," banging her forehead on his shoulder. "But I have nothing of him Peter, nothing."

"Yes you do," resting his cheek on the crown of her head, "you have his love and the little piece of it he gave you before we left. I'll take care of you, like always Su. We all will."

Gulping, "What about Mum and Dad? What will we do?"

"We'll figure it out together. That little one will have all the love in the world. The best mother, and two uncles that will love him or her, and an aunt who'll always bring a smile for that child, Susan." Firm circles were being rubbed into her back as her shoulders shook, "We never will go back to Narnia, but you did something wonderful - you brought a piece of it back with us. And as angry as I was, and heartbroken too - I'll always be grateful that a piece of home will always be here. We'll get through this the same way we always do - together."

Sniffing, "How did you know anyway?"

"Well instead of being cranky only five days of the month, you were hell everyday instead," the chuckle sounded forced, but it was still a laugh. "That and you turned down liver and onions. I'll never be able to figure out _why_ you like them so much, because frankly that's one of the most disgusting things I've ever had the poor luck to smell or taste for that matter, but you have for quite some time. It was the final give away. No actually, it was the whole throwing up on me. Even a death, dumb, mute, and blind man could figure that out."

"Do you think anyone else knows?"

"Edmund maybe," Susan submitted to the gentle rocking, even as it made her so very sleepy, "But maybe not."

Tilting her head back to look at him, wiping away the trail of blood over his lip, "I wish you hadn't been angry."

"Su, what would you have me do? You're my sister, and in my mind you're supposed to be kept innocent of all the base things that men do," giving her a smooch on the forehead.

Laughing weakly, "You never stopped me before when we were in Narnia."

"Not for lack of trying. I kept trying to get rid of all those men, but Edmund and Lucy kept conspiring against me. Otherwise alot of them would have wound up dead you know. My motto - kill them all for their filthy hands, and let Aslan sort the innocent out later."

"You know, he said something much like that," starting to face the memories.

"Oh?"

"Yes, he threatened to start wars with all the kingdoms that we dealt with while we ruled," hugging Peter, who as bullheaded as he could be, was still her rock.

"I always knew I liked that boy," this time his laugh was genuine.

They stayed like that for long minutes, just trying to weather the storm, and both feeling more alive than they had in quite some time. Yawning as she started to feel too sleepy to keep standing, "Peter, one question though."

"Hmm?"

"It's been bugging me for a long time. Why did you fight Miraz? Why not let Caspian do it?"

"I'd never forgive him if he left you Susan, that's why. His anger would have made him blind to the fact that he wasn't invincible," he sounded caught off guard, but recovered quickly, "And I wouldn't have been able to forgive myself either. Ah the folly of the young."

To that they both pulled back, laughing quietly, two siblings far too old for their bodies and their world, trying to make it as best they could in such trying times.

* * *

AN: Well that didn't turn out _quite_ the way I intended. I'm a bit iffy on this chapter. Doesn't feel quite right, but at the same time I hope it conveys the point. And **gasp**Susan's preggers. Like anyone didn't see _that_ coming. Oh well I hope it wasn't too cliche. Also, I really am looking for a beta - someone who can point out stuff for me, and all that lovely type _stuff_ that beta's do. I like the word 'stuff' - it's so magical and covers so many things...

Thanks to kimidragon, purplemachine, jdeppgirl4, mars'mallow, Rachelle123, PetuniaPatronus, for all the multiple reviews. And to all the other reviewers, a big thanks as well. Without all of your encouragement, I would've just typed this up for myself and left it on my hard-drive.

To all my other readers - again, thank you.

My overall hope is that y'all will make with the button pushing and review, tell me what you think, where I can improve and all that. I mean it - I'm tough. Trust me, you should meet my editor - she's hell on wheels - so any kind of criticism will be handled with glee actually. No one's harder on my writing than me, so feel free to bash it if you like.

Thanks also to PenguinsRFunny for updating her fic The First Meeting so quickly. It's good, and a wonderful distraction when my mind bogs down, and I just need to let the cogs cool off.

Now - who wants a cookie? A cake? Some other sort of sweet nummynummy thing? Or just another chapter? Then go clickyclicky down there where you see that button, it takes only a few seconds to review, and the rewards are worthwhile. I may even do a sugar crack fic just for the hell of it - all this angst and ennui is a bit tough, and all of you deserve a little reward.

So here's the choices for a sugar fic:

A: Susan finds Caspian doing something manly - like chopping wood, or practicing, or horseback riding - shirtless.

B: Caspian acidentally barges in on Susan bathing in her rooms.

C: Smutt for smuttness's sake.

Or D: Smutty verson of A or B.


	5. Bright Ideas 5

Chapter Five

Bright Ideas

AN: Edmund time, I thought of doing Caspian - wait... I didn't mean it that way! Get yer filthy minds outta the gutter! Oh... none of you saw that Freudian slip? Oh okay then, carry on, nothing to see here... Yup, I'm like Snow White, but I hope you don't realize how much I drifted... But yes, back to doing Caspian - I didn't want it to be all Caspian. Gotta have some variety, plus there's more fun stuff happening in Narnia than there is in England.

BTW - did anyone like my Peter? I'm not sure if I do, I kinda have an ax to grind with him just a touch, but on the other hand I can understand that big brother's are supposed to be arseholes at times. So hopefully I softened him up a bit. He's just not thoughtful enough for me to like him as much as Edmund. And for you mars'mallows, I shall make him King Edmund the Shmexy. Eventually. For now he'll be King Edmund the Adorably Sweet and Slightly Funny.

* * *

"You know, I'm thinking this wasn't such a good idea Caspian!" Edmund shouted, as he stood back to back with the young king.

"Perhaps you are right brother!" but Caspian denied that statement as he laughed joyfully, his arm punching forward to skewer one of their assailants with his blade.

Edmund grunted as he spun about, wielding dual swords - the first courtesy of Caspian, the second received after dispatching one of the foolish slavers. It was a rapid flurry of movement, spinning this way and that, using the motto that the best defence is a vicious offense, Edmund felt sweat bead on his upper lip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Caspian slashing, stabbing and cutting about, his eyes wide and manic, leaving himself open to all attacks. Worried for his friend who crowed with every meaty thunk into other's flesh, Edmund wondered at the man behind him. Something was bizare about Caspian now, unhinged. Earlier he'd seen glimpses of it when going off on a tirade, blaming Aslan for every pain - imagined or otherwise - and referring to Susan continually as his wife. It wasn't a mark of a healthy mind.

"May Aslan have mercy upon you! For I have none!" Caspian bellowed, his lashing out and with such force did he put behind his swing, Rhindon cleaved his target through the shoulder and embedded itself in the fellow's torso.

Too late though, Caspian turned, and recieved a slash from another slaver, while Edmund pushed hismelf to get their in time. Watching in horror as Caspian reeled back, still laughing, letting go of his hilt, to wrap his arms about his assailant, lifting him up in a mighty hug. There was a wet, disgusting, crunching noise as the man screamed in terror and agony as his back broke from the force. Caspian threw the man down, stomping on his face repeatedly, and the slavers stopped, staring. Edmund, standing next to his current opponent, was transfixed like the others, and he couldn't help but question his faculties, for he wasn't capable of believing Caspian could show such violence.

Caspian looked up, his hair long since fallen into his face, and his gaze locked with Edmund's. And what Edmund saw made him ill... Part of Caspian had enjoyed the rage.

Coming back to himself with a shake, calling out, "Kneel to your King and you shall be granted mercy!"

Caspian's head jerked to stare at him, his teeth bared, but the madness receded leaving muted dispair in it's wake, "I am King Caspian the Tenth, ruler of Narnia, and the Lone Islands by right of Aslan." Edmund was relieved that Caspian sounded almost normal, "Lay down your weapons or be dispatched."

Their small band of several soldiers, Trumpkin, Reepicheep, were all still awaiting the slaver's response. When they didn't move fast enough, Caspian ripped Rhindon from the man he'd cleaved almost in two who was still macabrely alive, then jamming it down into his neck, finishing him off. Edmund held in a wince - killing a downed man was a bit harsh, even though truly still a mercy. It was just the coldness of how Caspian did it that turned Edmund's stomach.

Moving to stand beside him, his own weapons still drawn, "So, how many did you get?"

"Seven," glancing at him, "You?"

"Five."

Caspian shrugged, "Well there are a bit less than twenty left. You could catch up. But it is hardly enough for more than a bit of exercise."

Their voices were pitched to carry despite the apparent casuallness of the conversation. Stirrings amongst the slavers and then clattering as they dropped their weapons. Edmund contained a smile, glad that they hadn't called their bluff. His quick look at Caspian revealed that it may not have been a front at all. He was covered in blood, most of it not his, though he had a wound that weeped steadily along his side.

"Sorry to disappoint you, your Majesties, but I think they're not up for it," Trumpkin quipped from the sidelines.

"Perhaps next time," Caspian muttered, sheathing his sword.

* * *

Taking Trumpkin aside, "How long has he been like this?"

The dwarf let out a sigh, "What do you mean?"

"Don't play coy. How long has Caspian been... not himself?" clasping his shoulder, trying to read all of his expression.

Trumpkin closed his eyes, tugging on his beard, "Wasn't so you'd notice at first. Little things at first, a shorter temper at times. You know how he was, hard to push around, take a lot to make him angry. But once he was it wouldn't be pretty." The dwarf looked around, cautious, making sure no one could overhear them, "Then it got worse. Less time to make him mad, longer to cool him down."

"What are you afraid of Trumpkin?" Edmund could see the worry lining his features, and it didn't escape his notice how he kept checking over and over again to see who was nearby. A sinking feeling in his stomach, "You're afraid of Caspian."

Shaking his head, "No, no I ain't afraid _of_ the boy. I'm afraid _for_ him. Big difference."

Rubbing his chin with his other hand, he mulled that over, "You think he'd harm himself?"

"I don't know anymmore, he's so lost but never asks for help." Spreading his hands wide, "He don't ask for nothing. Ever. It's either an order or something that is taken for granted."

"Nothing? Nothing at _all_? Not for food, or a change of anything?"

"No, not at all Highness. It's like he ain't got needs, yet anyone with eyes can see he needs..." his voice trailed off and sadness filled his visage. "He needs Susan. She's the only one he'll accept, won't take anyone else. Will fly into a rage if anyone even suggests he take a woman. Let alone a bride. And he won't take comfort from friends even. I been shut out, and so's Reep. Cornelius is the only one he even allows to even try anymore - and that's probably out of habit."

It was worse, much worse, than Edmund could ever imagine. Whispering, "No man can stand alone."

"Don't stop him from trying."

"Ah, there you two are. I was looking for you," Caspian had a frown upon his face, as he spotted them.

A flash of guilt went through Trumpkin's eyes, but Edmund was the only one close enough to see it. Nodding to him, then turning to smile at Caspian, "How are things getting settled?"

"I picked a likely fellow to govern for now in my stead," Caspian shrugged nonchalantly. "A Lord that had been banished by Miraz. It took little convincing after I had a few slavers beheaded for their crimes. Lord Bern will take care of the rest, and the Dawn Treader is being resupplied. We sail again on the morning tide."

"Looks like you got it sorted then," Edmund forced a smile through the shock of Caspian speaking so casually about ordering the deaths of others. But it had been three years for Caspian, and three years was a long time to slip, a long time to stand alone, a long time to change, and a long time to loose oneself.

* * *

Lucy knocked on his door, and popped her head in, whispering, "Ed? You asleep?"

Propping himself on his elbows, "What is it Luce? Can't sleep?"

She slipped in, closing the door carefully, then crawled into Edmund's bed. Moving over so she could cuddle down, he Edmund waited until she was settled before laying back, curling a protective arm around her. In the sliver of light coming through the porthole he could see wet sparkles on her chubby cheeks.

Brushing at them, "Luce? What's wrong?"

"He's not well," sniffling.

"Who Luce?" though Edmund already knew.

"Caspian, he's not well at all. Oh what do we do?" her breath hitched, and her tiny shoulders shook as she let a few tears out. "Trumpkin said that Caspian rarely eats, rarely sleeps, and is always working on some project or another. Either that or he's destroying things in the training hall, and no one wants to spar with him anymore, they're all scared he might hurt them, or himself," it came out in a rush. Hugging her, so her voice came out muffled, "No one even knows why he set sail anyway. Some say it's to go to Aslan's Country, others that it's to find Lords that Miraz banished." A hiccup, and loud wet sniff, "He has to get better Edmund, he has to!"

"I think that's why we're here, Luce. Aslan has a plan, you know that. He always does..." while his own faith in Aslan wasn't what it should be, Edmund still trusted Him enough to think that. To hope it.

"You think so? You think He brought us here to help Caspian? Really?" the fact that Lucy was even asking that hurt Edmund so badly he thought he'd be in tears next. But he felt that there'd been enough crying of late, and he didn't want to add to it.

"Yes, Lucy, I do."

* * *

AN2: Ah that was kinda hard, so - Caspian's nutso... Hey you try livin' that long as a young man with a healthy libido and be unable to have the one woman who lights yer fire. I bet it'd suck beyond belief!

And I hope it's not too over the top that I have Edmund being the one who still has faith... He's just kinda logical though - if the other two times in Narnia Aslan had a plan, then He must still have one. And Edmund feels that he has to hold onto that, so that he can stay strong enough to help those he cares for. But I also wanted to show a bit of the fun Edmund - you know, Mr. Snarky. Even if he is disturbed by how wacko Caspian's getting. Next chapter - Susan again, because I can. And that chapter is sorta writing itself out in my knoggin.

AN3: Okay as for the sugar fics - voting is now closed. You'll be happy to know I'm doing _four_- yes four - sweet fics. Two are already finished, and they were freebies that you can either thank or blame on **kimidragon**. She wanted a round and happy Susan smut with Caspian. Which made me think of chocolate spread on scones and her telling Caspian that no, she can't have that because she's getting fat. Then I separated that into two different ones. So there's a chocolate one and a HappyPregnant!Susan one.

The tallies for the votes were this:

3 - C's - smut for smuttness's sake

3 - BD's - smutty barge into Susan's bath

4 - AD's - smutty manly actions

Eh it's a moot point to a degree... I want to make all of you happy. So - while I got Chocolate Covered What? and And His World Was Round finished, I'm still working on the other two that involve manliness and bathtubs...

**Okay one question for ya'll, 'tis important. These fluffies haven't been finished chronologically. As in And His World Was Round takes quite some months after I Wish, and Chocolate Covered What? takes place before that. I haven't finished the other two stories which would take place only SHORTLY after I Wish. So tell me if you want me to just submit them in the order that I've written them, or if you want them listed chronologically.**

Go ahead - stroke my ego, review! You know you wanna...


	6. This Message Brought To You By

I have posted the first of the fluffy fics that are y'all's just rewards. I shall be posting one a day, until all four are up.

Thank you all.

It is under the title I Love (Hey I'm going with a theme here... bleh... I think I'll name the whole series I Live - I'm so creative**snarky**)

The first story posted is And His World Was Round - again let me reiterate, it's under the group title of I Love.

PS I really really really need a beta. I hate how unprofessional my stuff's looking without someone to give me a boot in the arse over my mistakes. Any takers?


	7. Wash My Soul 6

Chapter Six

Wash My Soul

AN: We all feel for Caspian. We all feel his plight. And okay, we feel a bit sorry for Susan. But she's as much an equal part of their relationship, and as worthy of our sympathy. So - I'm remedying that. We all should love her just as much, because Caspian makes her happy and makes her whole - just like she does for him. So... yeah...

And this will be the second time Susan's in the bathroom washing up that I've written today. The other one is fluffy - Ruba Dub-Dub, Su's In The Tub. Silly name, but it's a fluffy fic! Though even my fluffy stuff has some angst in it... strange... I think there may quite possibly be something wrong with m'head... Okay neither here nor there. And I've written like... four things containing naughtiness in the last 24 hours. So, I think that's a record for me.

Oh and also as we all know (I'm merely clarifying) no time has really passed England time while Edmund and Lucy are gone, so as far as Susan and Peter are concerned Lu and Ed have only been gone for an hour or three at the museum. checks that Okay I'm more confused - probably lack of sleep.

Y'know I've been looking back at the books, and purplemachine brings up a very very valid point - many of CS Lewis' characters are very archetypal, almost to the point of being one dimensional. There's very little development, almost as though the individuals were more like character outlines, where a full person was supposed to stand. I think that's a great injustice, because CS Lewis' allowed them so much potential, yet didn't develop any of them truly. In the books, Edmund seems to have the most change that is explained, followed by Eustace, and even Lucy who's supposed to have the greatest faith of all the children, has little growth. She's always the faithful one, even if she "commits the sin of jealousy" in Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It felt as though the books were like a trailer for a movie, just little flashes to draw you in, to make you wait until the movie's out and you go and see it. The only problem is - the movie never comes out! All we get are trailers! Pathetic. Oh well, at least there's fanfiction, and we can warp, twist, and play with beloved characters to our hearts delight. I know I am!

* * *

"So do you think you could eat at all, Su?" Peter's voice was very soft, waking Susan up from her catnap. His hand was warm on her forehead, and soothing.

"Just an egg on toast please, and if there's any, a bit of jam," blinking drowsily.

"Sure, you keep resting for a little longer, I'll be back."

Catching hold of his wrist as Peter got up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, "Peter?"

"Hmm?"

Smiling tremulously, "Thank you."

Peter leaned down kissing her forehead, "It's no problem Su. Everything will be alright, and first things first - we need to get you fed. You're eating for two now."

Nodding, Susan closed her eyes waiting for Peter to exit, fully intending on getting up. Unfortunately her body had other ideas, and she drifted off until Peter returned, the scent of butter and egg reawakening Susan. Suddenly ravenous, she bolted upright, reaching for the small plate. Peter relinquished it with a laugh while Susan wolfed the sandwhich down like she hadn't eaten in days.

Around a mouthfull, "What? I'm hungry..."

"I can see that, Su," taking a bite out of his own fried sandwhich.

She eyed it, licking her fingers now that hers was gone. It was like that sometimes, most days she was too nauseous to eat, others she couldn't stop herself. Peter caught her look, and wordlessly offered her his after only having taken two bites.

Letting out a mock suffering sigh, "Go ahead. I'm just glad you're eating. I'll just sit here and starve..."

Knocking him with her elbow, "You're an ass you know that?"

"You used to tell me that daily," rolling his eyes, "there were times when I could have sworn that was your purpose in life. That and driving me crazy with all the suitors." Picking up their plates, "I guess it'll be back to that then. Being put in my place all the time."

"It's a hard job, but someone has to do it."

Snorting, "Look I'm going to clean the mess in the kitchen and your room up, why don't you take a bath or something? Try and relax."

Grateful for the offer, "Peter..."

"Don't think about it Su, it's just what I do. I have one family, I have to take care of all of you, it's my privilege," he didn't look at her, and Susan could tell he was coming out of his own depression. Now if only she could come out of hers.

* * *

The water was warm as it slid over her body, raining down from the showerhead. Tipping her head back, the wet hair heavy as it clung to her shoulders, running her fingers through the locks. Eyes closed, Susan tried not to think, just exist. It was getting easier, but at the same time it was getting harder. As the water weaved between her breasts, it curled around her stomach, before trickling through her pubic hair. Cupping her hand over her womb, was it bigger? Susan couldn't tell.

Her lips trembled and she didn't know if the moisture on her face was from the shower or from her eyes. Never would she feel Caspian's hands running over the place where their child resided. Nor would she ever see his face light up when he saw her. He would never know their child, and she would never be able to watch as he cradled their baby in his arms, with his long fingers darting over a tiny nose, chin and cheeks. Choking on a sob, never would Susan watch as he taught the product of their love how to ride, or to walk. No fighting to get food into the baby's mouth with funny noises and words. Nothing. Susan would never get to share this with him.

Wrapping her arms around her torso, she sank to her knees in the shower. And that was worse than never seeing Caspian again, because knowing she'd never be able to share and have him take part in their child's life - that was the greatest pain of all. When she'd first returned from Narnia, Susan had thought leaving him was the worst, and having his marks fade from her body, leaving her to live in nothing but an empty hell was true anguish. But no, once the morning sickness started, once her period hadn't come, and once the realization dawned - she was to have his child... never to let him know that he had a son or a daughter... Then the real pain had started.

Struggling to regain a semblance of calm, the water pounding on her back, hair hanging around her face, Susan didn't want their baby to know the pain she was in. It was her thought that her child could feel what she did, and Susan wouldn't want it to feel her pain, only to know the love that sparked it's tiny existence. Trying to not think about Caspian had only made matters worse, and she wondered if that was why she was so sick, all those attempts at normalcy when things were as far from okay as they could be. Gathering her willpower, Susan forced herself to face her memories. And to dream of new ones, ones that she was sure would have happened if she'd been able to stay with Caspian. From now on she promised the baby, she would feel as many good things, so that she could let it know her love, and the love that it's father would bestow in equal measure if he were there.

Her hand went to her sex, slipping through the folds, imagining that the warmth on her back was Caspian, that her fingers were his. Eyes closed, sighing, one thin digit tracing the petals, sure the way his were, mimiking them as best she could. Tenderly studying each dip and crevice before inserting two fingers, working steadily making her blood heat. Susan's mind drifted... and it was as though she could hear him, whispering in her ear...

* * *

"Susan," stubble scraped the shell of ear, "Susan... you have my child inside you. Our child..."

Moaning, "Yes..."

Relaxing against his chest, as he stroked her secret flower, Susan felt safe. Reaching back to stroke a thigh that framed her hips, feeling the ropey muscle, thick from years of riding, the light dusting of sable hair silky to the touch. Turning in his arms, Susan faced him, in the tub they were sitting in, leaning in to kiss that gorgeous mouth of his. Caspian's lips parted, the melted chocolate of his eyes winking out as they closed, his sharp inhale as Susan pressed her breasts to him, and she loved that she could do this to him. For a split second the fantasy wavered, but Susan concentrated, bringing it back into focus.

Caspian embraced her, their tongues tangling, while her hand trailed from his temple, down his jaw, to his neck - oh how wonderous he felt beneath her touch - to his chest, where she playfully circled a nipple making him growl low in his throat, down his toned stomach following the thin trail of coffee coloured hairs. Susan pulled her mouth away from his, her other hand urging him to lean back on his arms, so she could gaze at him appreciatively. He let out a groan, his eyes glittering onyx, his cheeks just a touch flushed.

"And what do you think you are doing?" Caspian's voice was rough.

Flicking her tongue out and curling it as it sliped back between her lips, "Blowing your mind."

To that Caspian puffed his cheeks out, air whooshing from his lungs, and it was gratifying, "Then feel free..."

"Don't mind if I do," darting forward to suck a nipple, while her hand teased at his heavy manhood.

Susan's mouth took the same route her hand had earlier, but slowly, listening to Caspian's appreciative sighs, or occasional growl when she hit a sensitive spot. Noting that the corner of his jaw when it was nibbled illicited a dark purr, and a twitch of his prick, Susan spent several moments enjoying the stubble on her lips as she continued, knowing that she'd leave a bruise. He was hers after all, and he should bear her marks just as she proudly bore his. Caspian was hard in her hand, his skin silkier than anything she'd ever felt in any world, at any time. No man felt as good, no man made her feel as safe, and no man could make her as happy. She would do the same for him if she could. Cutting that thought off, Susan went back to thinking about how his skin tasted.

Salty, and warm, and all male, in some parts rough, in others smooth, while her mouth worked magic down his torso. Pausing to flick at his bellybutton, making him laugh shakily that faded into a moan when she massaged his foreskin over the head of his cock. Moving backwards, so that she could nuzzle at his thigh, giving a light bite, her hand still working on his organ, Susan smiled in satisfaction as she noted how his knuckles went white where he gripped the sides of the tub. Catching his eye, Susan slowly rolled her tongue around his flared crown.

Caspian gritted his teeth, and she could tell he was holding in a howl, the sound coming out in a gurgle, his stomach muscles trembling. Engulfing him, a hand going to fondle his velvety sac, snaking the wet muscle on his shaft, and humming deep in her throat so that he could feel the vibrations. He whined, fingers stiffly unwinding from their death-grip to tangle in her hair, pushing his dick further into her sucking mouth. His eyes were wild and his breathing ragged, every shred of his self-control apparent in the lines of tight muscles.

"Susan," his demand obvious.

With a sigh, Susan pulled back, still massaging his cock with her hand, licking a straight line up his abdomen, Adam's apple, chin and then thrusting deep into his mouth. Both of them moaned, and Susan felt herself lowered back to the floor of the tub, while water rained down over them from overhead. Spreading her thighs while Caspian hooked a hand behind her knee, pushing it into her chest, their mouths still locked together, Susan couldn't wait to feel him inside her.

Poised at her entrance, Caspian waited for her eyes to flutter back open. For a long moment the tableau held, then Caspian was spearing her in one long commanding thrust. Each time he took her, Susan felt like he was _taking _her, filling her up, so that she would never mistake who it was who completed her, who she fit with. Arching her back, her arms thrown over head to brace on the wall of the porcelain tub, so that she had enough leverage to push back at his every deep plunge. Their gazes were locked, the pace demanding as they strained with and against eachother. Susan came with an explosive shudder, and looked up because Caspian had stopped, staring down at her.

"Caspian?" reaching for his face.

He leaned down, laying his full length on her, his heavy weight pressing her firmly on the warm-cold bottom of the tub. Still he said not a word, his expression intense.

"Caspian, you're worrying me," but she knew what was happening.

"Susan, I will always be real to you... always... No matter where I am, or where you are, I will love you, and I shall always belong to you. You will always be able to bring me forth to comfort you when you need it most. For I will be there, waiting. Remember that, no matter how hard it gets." Caspian's hand caressed her thigh, the other slipping beneath her head, "I will always be in your heart. And you will be in mine. Stay strong and love our child for both of us."

And then the fantasy ended, and Susan was still on the floor of the tub, the imagery she'd summoned up that took her outside of space and time gone. A hand was still buried between her thighs from pleasuring herself, the other thrown over her eyes. Shivering as cold water pelted her from above Susan let the tears come, but then got control of herself. She had to keep in mind what he'd said, because even if he was nothing more than an illusion, that Caspian was the only one she'd ever get, and even so - his wisdom was just the same. Turning the water off when she sat up, Susan wrung her hair out, still in pain, but determined.

And she was nevermore glad she had such a vivid imagination and a photographic memory, for his voice had been perfect, his reactions real, and every scar in the right place, every little birthmark not forgotten, flawless down to the tiniest detail. Since that was all she'd ever get, she'd have to make do.

* * *

AN: Okay not to confuse you, but she wasn't remembering anything. Susan was also not dreaming. She was fantasizing so that she could get what she needed. And for now it'll give her strength, because she has to be strong for their baby, and for him too. Because that's what he'd want, and what would make him happy(ish), and so since she loves him, and their child, Susan will do her damndest to do what needs to be done. It's all she has.

(There's alot of that in my fics - striving to make due because it's that or curl up and die. Meh, I think it speaks for mental instability on my part, but hey at least it's interesting...)

I shall be responding to reviewers once again shortly, time has just been a bit short while working on these chapters and the snuggle fics. So, sorry it's taken me a day or two to get to y'all, but don't worry, I'll get to you in a minute.

Now several points to discuss that are brought up in reviews that I'm sure others may be wondering:

Mrs. Longbottom - "what kind of brother tells his already depressed sister that the father of her child is dead?"

Me: A brother who can be an ass, but it's for what he feels are good reasons. Such as wanting Susan to try and move on. Even though he himself is having a hard time doing so, which is why the assholiness comes out. Peter's still depressed about the whole thing too, and never being the tactful one, he just bulls ahead without thinking at times. Peter's brash, jumps in and takes the offensive - both in caring for others, as well as in battle. So sometimes he makes stupid mistakes. It'll wear off as he gets older again. Though I agree totally - it makes him kinda a butthead.

purplemachine: Caspian being wonderful in essence, to the point of never loosing sight of his goals.

Me: You're right that is pretty one dimensional, and it's why I've made him kinda bonkers. But here's the thing - he's still a good _king _he just isn't so great a person at this point - very disconnected from reality. No matter how good a ruler is, or a role model or public figure - they're still human. So even if their decisions pertaining to their people are sound, it doesn't mean that said person doesn't loose sight of themself. He's made himself live on duty alone for so long, shutting out everyone and everything - because he's never known how to live for himself. As a child Caspian had to keep to the shadows because of Miraz. As a young adult he had to give into the High King's wishes, relinquishing any power and control he'd just been learning how to weild properly. And as a man, he was forced to give up the one thing he wanted for himself. And so his duty bound psyche had to be broken, so that he could be driven to the point where he could demand what HE needed FOR himself, because his normal sane ruler-self wouldn't allow him to go off on some hair-brained adventure to desperately seek out Susan. And why does he need Susan though? She's the only person he ever let all his defences down around - and I mean all of them. Sometimes the "real" Caspian breaks free - the one that's young, frightened, angry, and hurt by all he's lost, and confused as to why all he's ever meant to do is give and give without receiving any reward. The one that roars out and draws his blade on Peter after the Night Raid. The one that tries to flee Trufflehunter's house because he doesn't want to have anyone else hurt. The one that ran and faced down Miraz, thus throwing off the plans for the Night Raid, because he wanted to, needed to know and express his anger at all Miraz stole from him. He ain't perfect. Even though much of the time he is - but how interesting, how real would he be if he was like that all the time? And would we love him as much? Sooo...yeah...

kmidragon: ...it's not right that Caspian should be so broken...he doesn't deserve that.

Me: Name me one person who gets their just rewards because they're good? Frankly though I don't like hurting him either, which is strange because here I am, that's what I'm doing. And true he's fictional, but there's people I know who've got shadings of the same sort of daily tragedy in their lives. I mean, how many people are lonely, who shouldn't be? How many people are shut out from the world, and want nothing more than a simple hug and never get it? So unlike those real people though, Caspian will get what he needs at some point, but he has to fight for it. Just like real people do - because those who get what they need fight for it, work hard to get it. Y'know? Which makes it worthwhile, makes you appreciate the good times, which is a lesson we should all learn.

Alot of my writing contains that theme: work hard to get what you need, work hard to cultivate it when you get it, and if you don't get it - try a different track, or re-evaluate what it is that you think you need. Because while we can't always get what we want, if we work hard enough, and sometimes that means just taking what we need/demanding it, we can get what we have to have to survive. But always remember that survival isn't always the key - sometimes you have to just live.

Okay whoa, I went off on a tangent... Just call me Rhion the Philosopher Smut Princess.

**PS: The first of the sugary fics is up, they have not been done in order chronologically, just in the order that I wrote them.**

**REVIEWS! I love them, they make me write more, they make me put out more (wow I'm easy - no one tell any guys that... Unless it's Ben), and it's getting a bit difficult to keep up my current pace, so any and all encouragment is very appreciated. And rewarded with cookies... And every 5 fics/chapters it's rewarded with a fic idea selected from several choices... Yes, I'm shamelessly bribing you. If it worked - review. If it didn't - I'll try harder.**


	8. Becoming Insane 7A

Chapter 7 - Part One

Becoming Insane

AN: I didn't feel right not putting out at least a bit of this chapter, so it'll be posted in two parts depending on the length of it. Otherwise I'll just tack it on. Much love y'all. Also a warning - there's a tiny bit of squickness, but not much and it's for a good reason. Also it's a tad... dark... Afterall it takes place on the Island of Dreams (if you're familiar with VotTD you know that all dreams come true... though it's not really explored. I'm fixing that! Lookit me I fix I fix!) So the imagery is a bit disturbing and there's some detailed violence.

PS: I responded to all of those of you who've reviewed - but I'm not sure if you received my messages, because seems to be having problems with the alerts/pm's/official notices, and I know this for I'm not the only one. If you haven't gotten my response, someone let me know in a review (if you review and have reviewed before that is) and if it's a 'no' then I'll post all the responses to individuals on the chapter that the review was on. I'm big on the lettin' each of you know that I appreciate the time you take to let me know your thoughts on my work, and so each of you deserve a full response, and it irks me to no end that 's being crappy at the moment.

* * *

Caspian eyed the old man up and down. The mad recognized the mad and he smiled grimly at that thought. This poor twisted wretch before him, huddled on his knees, begging that they not go to the island that could be spied through the thick roiling fog, was lost well and truly. So disturbing was this man's appearance that Caspian had commanded that Lucy stay in her room, for she'd only be frightened by the wizened, tattered being. Edmund was trying to gain a better explanation from him, but Caspian knew that at this point coherent answers wouldn't be forthcoming. Mainly because there was no choice when it came to moving on yet, for sailing through this evil mist was nothing but the sheerest of folly.

"Old man, what's so terrible about that island that you don't wish to return?" Edmund's voice was low and soothing.

Caspian cocked his head as he took several steps away from the duo, resting a bare foot on the bench at the prow, "Good sirs, please - it is where dreams come true."

"And how would that be a bad thing?" curiosity coated each of the Just King's words.

Caspian answered for the creature that was once a man, "Dreams can be dark and ugly things Edmund."

Though his young friend didn't seem to hear his words.

The anchor was weighed shortly, and Trumpkin stood by his side, neither a welcome presence nor an unwelcome one.

Glancing down at him, "You are troubled."

"Aye your Highness," the dwarf shivered in the over cold air."There's somethin' fell about this place."

"It stinks of rot and decay," Caspian nodded. Chuckling darkly, "And what dreams of yours do you think will come true?"

Edmund came over, excited, "I want to check it out. Besides - I've got cabin fever." A wild gesture, "And we should find out what we can about it anyway."

Caspian looked over at him, concerned momentarily - the young king wasn't normally so eager or incautious. Running his fingers through his hair, then scratching the underside of his chin - he really should shave more often - Caspian tried to think about all this logically. If dreams came true on the island, then - his heart lept. Maybe his journey was at an end? No, it couldn't be that easy. Easy was the path of destruction. Leaning against the rail, his hands wrapping around it, gaze unfocused. There truly was something odd about the landmass. Ticking off what they knew as though this was nothing more than some tedious proposal laid on his desk, he felt he couldn't trust his gut. Other than the scent on the air, and one crazy old man - probably nothing more than some criminal banished from his village - and Trumpkin's foreboding...

Shoving away from the rail, Caspian walked across the deck, calling out orders, "Make ready a longboat - we make landfall."

Going belowdecks to gather his arms, and check on Lucy, Caspian paused before the captain's quarters. Resting the flat of his palm on the door, head bowed, tempted to go in there to check that everything was still in order. Licking his lip, he turned the handle, eyes closed as he opened the door. The room was scented with dried roses and lavender, the best approximation he could come up with for Susan's personal perfume. Before he could open his eyes, it grew to be too much and Caspian spun on his heel, slamming the door closed.

It was a good thing he hadn't swept the room with his gaze...

* * *

Edmund manned the other oar, pulling in time with Caspian's long strokes. Silence reigned, but for the splashes on the walls of the longboat.

"Caspian..." the voice came on the wind, and his head jerked.

"Did you hear that?" asking Edmund cautiously.

"Hear what? All there's to hear is water and breathing," Edmund was looking at him askance.

Shaking his head to clear it, "Nevermind. It is nothing."

Quiet grinding as the hull grated on gravelly sand, and Caspian hopped out along with Edmund, a rope over their shoulders as they strained, dragging the boat the rest of the way ashore. Edmund waded the up the beach from the water leaving Caspian to care for Lucy, who was here against his better judgement. Piggybacking the little girl, her weight almost unnoticeable, her arms slung over his shoulder and her chin tucked on his shoulder, as she was as quiet as he was. Allowing her to slip down to the glittering sand once she wouldn't get wet from the murky water, Caspian examined their surroundings.

Edmund's head was tipped back as he stared up at a high cliff that hadn't been apparent from the ship. Overall though the island looked normal, sand gave way to rolling dunes with scraggly grass, and beyond that waving shoulder high green grass. Squatting down, he picked up some of the sand, weighing it, studying it. The sand glittered like powdered diamonds, as he sifted it from one hand to the other. Standing back up, brushing his palms together, he noticed that he'd lost sight of Edmund. Not overly worried - Edmund could take care of himself, Caspian started making his way over the beach.

"Queen Lucy?" when he also realized that she was gone as well.

A flash of panic speared his heart. Loosening his sword in it's scabbard, Caspian went to where he had left her, not wanting to think how it would hurt Susan if anything were to happen to her. What a fool he'd been, for while his judgment wasn't always sound... Trumpkin could at least be trusted to have decent instincts. Tracking Lucy's footprints up a dune, until they just disappeared into the grassy plain. The world seemed to be moving though, moving around him, wavering, twisting, and the colours became painfully bright yet for some reason looked all wrong. As though they were being viewed through a blackened spyglass.

"Caspian..."

Whirling his breath caught in his throat, "Susan?"

She held out her hand, "Come to me."

Without thought he went to her, kneeling at her feet, hands clasped as though in prayer while he stared in awe, "You are returned to me..."

Susan cupped his chin as she walked around him, to lean over his back, her breath sweetly blowing on his suddenly freezing skin. Her breasts were pushed into his back, and Caspian tilted his head so it rested on her shoulder, waiting for the sensation of peace to come. None came, not like he had thought. He wasn't suddenly happy now that Susan was there. Shoving that aside, he was just overstressed he reasoned, he tried to revel in the sensation of plump lips stroking his neck. Huffing and shifting, Caspian turned in Susan's arms, holding on tight, dragging her ontop of him as he lay back in the vibrant green grass. One of her hands slipped into his breeches, fondling his prick. And he did not stir.

"What's wrong Caspian? Can't get it up?"

"No my Queen, it is not that. I am just -"

"Not much of a man? I know." Her laugh was cruel, "Didn't you know I found someone else anyway? I don't need you you know. You were good enough while you lasted," shrugging, "but my view's a bit skewed I suppose." She sat there, straddling his lips, tapping her chin in mock thought, "It'd been awhile and you are so very pretty."

"My Queen I do not -"

"Though," she leaned over him, her hands on either side of his head, rubbing her crotch against his, "I suppose your lack of reaction mean's Peter was more your type." Susan giggled, rubbing her nose on his, "Afterall you are so very very pretty... Very pretty indeed..."

His blood was ice, his body refusing to react almost as though she were some other woman. And he couldn't even imagine in his wildest nightmares that Susan would speak this way to him. Even if she had moved on, even if she hadn't loved him, even if he hadn't been able to satisfy her - Susan wasn't _like_ this. The Not-Susan sat there looking down at him, demurely, batting her eyelashes and giggling all the while gyrating on his groin.

Tossing her off of him violently, he glared, "Who are you?!"

She landed with a cry, "Caspian?! How could you?!"

The tears threw him for a loop, but Caspian shook it off, "You are not Susan."

And he walked away.

* * *

Striding as confidently as only those who have madness running thick below their skin in this land of insanity, Caspian ignored all the input his mind was receiving, trusting his feet to lead him where he needed to go. A terrified screech rent the air. Moving into a long lope, Caspian sped to where he heard the horrible sounds of a child being mauled. Rhindon was in his hand with no thought, the hilt grasped securely in his hand, battle instincts shooting to the fore.

There was a great lion, laughing in Aslan's voice as He pawed at Lucy, shredding her clothes, leaving thin red trails on her skin.

"Get away from her!"

Lamplight gold eyes rose up to look at him, "Ah King Caspian." Lucy was struggling beneath a huge paw that pinned her to the ground, "Glad you could join me for dinner."

"Please Aslan, please, stop!" sobbing, and Caspian's already great rage at the lion rose up to new-found heights, as there was a deep rumbling laugh.

"Ah, things do not happen the same way twice dear one. And I for one like to play with my food," huge tongue coming out to lap roughly at torn flesh. "Oh so innocent." Nuzzling at her barely blooming chest, "Don't you remember the games you played with boys once upon a time...? For I do."

Caspian had been creeping closer, the silver chased blade glinting in the dark sunlight. It wasn't the best weapon against a lion, but Caspian would be damned before he let the beast take one more thing from him ever again. For some reason though the lion disregarded his advance as he continued licking at Lucy, and the sight disgusted Caspian more than any other action he'd ever witnessed. The lion was gazing at him, and there was a very human lust in it's eyes as blood pinked the hairy lips.

Pushed too far now, as Lucy mewled helplessly, Caspian rushed forward with a roar to rival anything the lion could have ever manage. Rhindon struck true, with a thwack as the beast bellowed in rage. A paw lashed out, throwing Caspian, but he could see Lucy roll away from the lion, and satisfied she was safe for the moment, Caspian leapt back up. Twirling the sword about, wishing he had an ax or a spear - or at least his old sword and main gauche, for most creatures die when the heart is pierced - Caspian watched, waiting measuring his opponent who paced ack and forth, tail lashing. Broadswords were good for slashing, but against such an enormous beast it may not do much good.

"You have grown a pair of balls I see," snarled.

Caspian shrugged, "If that is how you see me, then that is how you see me. I could not care less."

In a burst of movement the lion launched himself at Caspian, who uncaring of his mortality, eyes only for vengeance against this thing, cocked his sword back, running to slam into the heavy body. A rib crushed, he was distantly aware, and claws rent at his back and sides, jaws trying to clench on his forearm. Throwing himself into the fight, Caspian touched the despair, the rage, the futility and the hate, allowing it to fuel his every action. Rarely, so very very rarely, did he have a place to direct these embittered feelings that his strength doubled, tripled, and shoving with all his gathered might, his fist punched through the wound Rhindon had scored. Laughing as the madness took over, Caspian's hand quested, while locking his legs around the barrel of Aslan, making it hard for the lion to get the purchase needed to kill him. Caspian was looking for the heart of the heartless monster, gore spilling from the wound and covering him. He lost hold of his sword, but it didn't matter at this point, it was only an extra thing to worry about. They rolled, tangled, some bizarre mating of man and animal, Caspian growling and snapping back at Aslan as though he were little more than a beast himself. Tearing a path through wet organs, bone cut the side of his forearm, probably one of the lion's ribs.

There was an angry cry and Caspian's sword speared through the other side of Aslan's chest. Howling as His body was pierced, the two way attack more than any animal could ever cope with, and it shuddered, shaking, convulsing over Caspian and then collapsed, crushing him deep into the ground.

"Caspian! Caspian! Oh Caspian are you alright?! Please, please don't be dead...!" sobbing invaded Caspian's ringing ears, giving him a direction he needed to go in.

Wriggling from beneath the oppressive weight, he saw Rhindon buried to the hilt in Aslan's side, as well as Lucy, clutching her tattered clothes to her body.

"Lucy, Lucy are you well?" spitting out the thick blood that was in his mouth. It coated the green grass in a fine red spray. He was caught up in a hug, which made all his wounds hurt, but he didn't care as he held Lucy tight, trying to make her feel as safe as he could. "It is done, hush, you are safe, I shall protect you. Shhshh. Be still little one, you are fine, you are safe. Nothing will ever touch you again, so long as I have a say in it."

"I thought He was going to kill you," allowing Lucy to pull away, so he could wipe off her tears, his thumb leaving a great red smear.

Nodding, "You did well though, you were very brave. But," looking up at the sky, blinking as he noticed how black it was, that there was a sourceless light that suffused their surroundings then back down at her, "but I do not believe everything here is as it seems, so your courage is doubly important."

She sniffed, "I wish I had my cordial."

Smiling ruefully, "As does my poor body. But, we must now find Edmund, for I am concerned that this island is designed to kill." Heaving himself up, Caspian leaned over, wrenching Rhindon from the mammoth carcass, "I must apologize my little Valiant Queen, for I made a most unwise decision in having us come to this island."

"It's okay Caspian, you'll fix everything," as she took his proffered hand, huddling close to him as they walked.

* * *

"Time flows differently here," muttering, his gaze fixed on his feet as he trudged, carrying Lucy once more upon his back.

"How do you mean?" she sounded drowsy, but Caspian thought it may be a good idea to keep her from sleep.

"When I was looking for you, it was as though no time passed, yet a great distance was covered," hitching her up higher with a bounce, ignoring the stabbing pain in his chest from the broken rib, and the bloody agony in his back from where Not-Aslan had torn at him. "Now it feels as many hours have gone by and we are not a step closer to Edmund."

"Oh," she was quiet then said, "What were you doing when you were looking for me?"

"Not thinking," dizzy from bloodloss, though it wasn't so great he couldn't push it aside.

"Then maybe.. maybe we shouldn't think?"

Laughing, "Excellent idea."

Blanking his mind once more, Caspian let the pain drift away, the weight of Lucy on his back, the worry over Edmund, the desire for Susan to be back in his arms - all of it was gone. Just mindless one foot infront of the other, step-step-step-step. The ground turned icy, silvery white, and still Caspian did not think. Didn't take notice of anything, every shadow sliding past his vision as though it were nothing.

A man stepped before them, "Halt."

Head whipping up, his eyes focused, "Edmund...?"

"That's Prince Edmund to you filthy Son of Adam," and it was certainly Edmund, but taller, deeper of chest and broader of shoulder. Chin length wavy hair framed a cold face, he was clad in white trimmed in the ruby of fresh spilt blood, arms crossed over his chest. There was a circlet of ice ringing his forehead, a sword at his hip with a wolfshead pommel twin to the one poking over his shoulder, and to top it off a bandolier of throwing daggers. "How dare you trespass upon She Who Is Pure's land?"

Lucy slid from his back, and Caspian straightened, "Interesting. I thought you were stronger than that King Edmund."

His eyes narrowed, the brown almost blue in this light, "I am strong enough to dispatch you, and that chit you have with you."

"Ed? Ed don't you recognize me...?" Lucy whimpered by Caspian's side.

Edmund cocked his head studying her, then frowned, "Lucy? You're dead."

"Explain yourself King Edmund," Caspian snapped not liking this Edmund, but he had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn't some false Edmund, but the real thing, changed by some dark magic.

"I will do no such thing, for I am as The White Queen's son, and am not accountable to the likes of you," snarling.

"Caspian," Lucy whispered, pointing at Edmund's head, "that crown... It's bonded to his head..."

Edmund hissed at Lucy, unsheathing both his swords in an impossible motion, and pointed them at her, "Silence! Or I shall cleave your head from your body, just as I did the first time you little pissant!"

The movement made Edmund's hair shift, and Caspian could see where thin slivers of ice dug into the flesh of the king's temples.

Grunting, "So it is Queen Lucy the Valiant. So Edmund, interesting headpiece, how about a wager - your crown if I win in a match against you."

Laughing, "Nice one, I like you, you have spunk!" Then the cold blue-brown eyes pierced him with a haughty stare, "And if I win what do I get?"

Caspian's lips peeled back from his teeth in a deaths-head grin, "This," while showing him Rhindon, "the blade of Aslan, the slayer of Wolves. Render-er of Justice. That is my offer."

"Interesting. I shall give you a fair chance then stranger, so while you're the challenger, I'll allow you to pick the terms," the words were fair, but the tone bespoke treachery.

But Caspian had treachery of his own sort in mind, "No weapons but our hands, no blades, no blunt objects - just hand to hand, body to body, the opponent must stay pinned for a ten count."

"Fine then, if that is your wish, I shall grant it before I kill you," with a glance over at Lucy, adding, "again."

Unslinging his sword belt, and handing it to Lucy for safeguarding, Caspian watched as Edmund took several moments to toss his weapons aside. As he turned, Edmund leapt, wrapping arms like bands of steel around Caspian without fair warning. Caspian's already broken rib cracked further, along with several others. Edmund leaned backwards, lifting Caspian off the ground, while squeezing as hard as he could, and while Edmund was strong, Caspian knew if he let the rage out Edmund wouldn't be able to stand. Though that would most likely lead to his friend's death. Which Caspian couldn't justify and nor would he wish to. Curling his legs up, so that all his weight was as tight as possible, Caspian smashed his head back right into Edmund's face.

A thick string of curses, and Caspian was tossed to the side, landing in a heap. Only shifting enough to be able to get leverage when Edmund came at him, a handful of heavy wet snow in his hand, that Caspian threw into Edmund's eyes. Springing up from the ground as Ed wiped at his eyes growling, Caspian caught him about the waist tackling him, and taking the King's head between his hands, fingers trying to pry the ice circlet from his temples.

"Lucy - help me!" and she was there, while Caspian did his best to still Edmund's thrashing, pushing his hand into his neck, so that he wouldn't have enough air to gather the strength to fight.

With a grotesque sound of flesh and bone grinding against diamond hard ice, Lucy tore the crown from Edmund's head. Edmund went limp with a tiny moan of pain. Pressing his ear to Edmund's chest for a heartbeat, Caspian was relieved when he heard the steady beat.

"Not that I don't like you Caspian, but, really, I don't think Susan would appreciate the humour of this..." it was moaned as Edmund tried to roll over.

Laughing as he flopped over, exhausted, "If you only knew the irony right now."

* * *

AN: Okay this will have to be part one of chapter 7, hope it wasn't too dark. Well no wiat, I do hope it was dark. I like dark. I live in a basement flat y'know. Thats how much I like dark. Only problem is, is right now it's summer and in Canada that means sunrise at like 4am and sunset at like midnight. So no dark for this girl. No wonder I can't sleep and feel crappy. Also - mars'mallows, see? I'm making Edmund, King Edmund the Shmexy... Ooohhh the plot thickens...

Reviews earn you guys extra fluff, and regular reviewers earn birthday fics. So, get with the program and make me your author-slave. Review! And I'll make Caspian love you forever. Or Edmund. Or Peter - or... dare I say... Trumpkin? To each their own.


	9. Before I Change Again 7B

Chapter 7 - Part Two

Before I Change Again

AN: The reason I'm saying this is still the same chapter as Becoming Insane is because I break up chapters by POV. And in this case its POV/Place. Get comfy, pull up a chair. Grab a glass of water. And be prepared...

* * *

Edmund was helping him up, and Caspian felt weak as a kitten. Gripping a broad shoulder, he eyed his friend curiously. Blood came from the king's temples, a few drops seeping out and trickling down his cheeks like evil tears.

"Go ahead, say it," Edmund snorted, not looking at him but at his feet in shame.

"Say what?"

"I failed," Ed sighed, supporting Caspian as they stumbled to a boulder to sit on.

Lucy came over, hugging her brother, "Nonsense! We're just glad you're okay..."

Caspian kept his eyes closed, not looking but his senses were extended wide and he could feel something... "Edmund, you know, you should redress yourself," as casually as possible.

"Huh?"

Caspian waved at the pile of Edmund's weapons that was nearby, then gesturing for Lucy to pass him Rhindon. Tugging Lucy close to whisper in her ear, as though he were embracing her, his voice the barest of sounds, "We are not alone."

Lucy shivered, and clutched him, keeping up a nonchalant facade. Edmund was glaring evilly at the sword in his hand as though it had offended him, before sliding it over his left shoulder. The second sword followed, resting on his left hip, and the set up looked rather unbalanced to Caspian but he offered no comment.

"Lucy, give me the crown, if you please," reaching for it. She relinquished it reluctantly, and as he held it, the ice of it burnt the skin of his palm. Lifting it up to examine it, turning it this way and that, even as tendrils of ice started to slither along it, trying to pierce his flesh. Snorting disdainfully, Caspian slammed it on the rock he was still sitting upon. It shattered into a thousand pieces, swirling in a sudden gust of snow-laden wind that whipped the trio's hair about their faces.

Edmund stood at Caspian's side in a fighter's stance, a forearm thrown over his eyes, Lucy crouched on Caspian's left seeking shelter from the force of the winds. Caspian merely sat calmly, waiting. He was good at that when he had to be. Overall though, he felt little worry because one way or another he _would_get Edmund and Lucy back to the Dawn Treader, and what was more - nothing would ever stop his implacable will to find Aslan and force Him to set things right pertaining to Susan. So this little terrible sojourn was nothing more than a blip on his mental map. Something to add to a list of reasons why Aslan wasn't much of a ruler of Narnia. Who in any state of mind would let such a place as this exist? The question was rhetorical and Caspian sought no answer to it, for answers were never what he sought, just results.

A Wolf of comparable size to the Not-Aslan was revealed as the gale quieted, icicles standing in a battle ruff from his neck, spines of razor sharp waving with each breath from his corwn to his tail. Eyes the colour of frozen flames flickered as they locked onto them.

"Your Highness is keeping odd company," the words rasped over Caspian's nerves.

Resting a hand on Edmund's elbow warning against any excess foolishness, and they communicated silently before Edmund spoke, "I keep the company I choose, Maugrim."

"Your Queenly Mother may say otherwise," pacing slowly back and forth, his muzzle low to the ground, eyes rolled up and Caspian wasn't fooled for a moment.

The Wolf wasn't showing obeisance, but was preparing for an attack at any provocation. A saying Susan used to use came to mind: the predator always crouches in preparation of attack, not for rest. And this Maugrim's belly was brushing the ground, powerful hindquarters moving beneath thick fur.

Resting his hand on Lucy's crown to reassure her, Caspian stayed at rest, eyes partially closed, watching the exchange. He wanted to see more of how this Wolf moved, as Edmund spoke, distracting it.

"I care not what you think Mother would say Maugrim, you're a fool if you think you're the favored child. It is I who has proven myself over and over again, not you." Drawing himself up to give the Wolf a superior look, "You and your Wolves have failed so miserably in expunging the taint of that mangy lion in Narnia, while I've pressed the green back, taking territory after territory in Mother's name."

Maugrim sniffed the air significantly, "Then why are you consorting with these Children of Adam and Eve?"

"That is none of your concern dog," waving in dismissal. "Now why don't you run along yipping and try and do something _useful_ for once."

There was a deep growl as the Wolf backed away slowly, "The Queen will hear of this insult."

Laughing, Caspian couldn't help it, and the sound was almost as evil as the icy air, "Would She not punish you for your inability to take care of such things? I find it hard to believe that such as you would continue to impress Her at all with your lacking." Shifting forward, the scabbard of his blade becoming more visible with the movement, "You have failed time and again according to the Prince, and here you are - whining, sniveling like a pup for mother's milk. Pathetic."

Edmund tried to shush him, "Caspian what're you _doing_?"

"Oh, nothing. Just playing with a cowardly dog," shrugging.

At that Maugrim howled, his head thrown back, and the sound shook the air. Caspian was unmoved. Standing up and unsheathing his sword as though it was the most natural thing to do, he let the light hit it, reflecting bright beams of light along it's surface.

Conversationally, while examining the letters chased along it, "So honourless puppy, why do you not roll over for me? Show me your belly, and I may let you live."

Edmund grabbed his arm, "You're in no condition to fight Caspian." His voice low, his tone urgent as he looked back at Lucy, "You don't know what you're facing. Do you want to let her see you get killed?"

Cocking his head, "Do not trouble yourself Edmund, this will take little time. Besides - this is nothing but a dream in the end." Looking at him, "My advice? Do not think. Not at all. Blank your mind." Directing his voice to Lucy, while reading the flashing runes near the hilt, "That goes for you as well little sister. Do not fear, do not think, do not dream. Blank your minds deeply."

Maugrim was snarling, his teeth bared, "You speak idiocy Son of Adam."

"Really? I have been called many things in my twenty-one years, curr, but idiot was never one of those things." Rolling his hilt in his hands, "Fool. Madman - I quite like that one, it is very accurate. Tyrant even. But my personal favorite is High King Caspian the Tenth, ruler of Narnia." Quirking his lips, "It rolls off the tongue quite well." All he received was a growl. Smiling he finally locked gazes with the Wolf, "See this?" gesturing with the sword, "Do you know what it is Maugrim?"

A lupine panting laugh, "A sword. Which will serve you not at all."

"Really? Ah but you see it is special, it is Named. Do you want to know the name it bears?" Leaning forward conspiratorially, whispering, "Rhindon... the Wolf Slayer."

The howl this time was ear peircing, and Maugrim tucked his tail between his legs, spinning about, "You shall die Son of Adam! This is not the last you have seen of me! And you -" snapping at Edmund, "the Queen will kill you for this treason!" And then ran off, bounding from ledge to ledge, almost as nimble as a goat.

Caspian watched the Creature leave, standing strong and without support for several minutes before turning to look at Edmund and Lucy, "Someone help me stay on my feet please, for I fear I may not keep them for much longer on my own."

And just like that Edmund was there, arm around his waist, "You really are mad aren't you Caspian?"

Nodding, grinning foolishly, "I rarely lie, in fact, not one instance comes to mind." Slinging his arm over Edmund's shoulders, in a one-armed hug, "Now, let us away before that stupid beast comes back with reinforcements."

* * *

Caspian crawled into the long-boat flopping with a pained 'oof', and tucked Lucy into his side feeling the need to comfort someone, "Are you scared little one?"

Lucy shook her head, as she watched the beach recede in the distance with Edmund pulling both oars smoothly by himself, "I told you you'd fix everything, and you did."

"It was a bit easy getting away," Edmund mumbled.

"Don't say that Ed!" Lucy snapped. "You don't know what Caspian had to go through to get us off that island."

Edmund's eyes darkened and he looked away, "True. But how much worse could it be than living through years of hell?" Then he winced, and Caspian could feel the weight of his gaze, but didn't bother to acknowledge the statement. "I'm sorry Caspian, I..."

Waving it off, "It is nothing brother. At least you are free now, and that is one less of us bound by pain. 'Tis all to the good."

"Well at least I'm big enough to actually do this without your help," Edmund was trying to cheer him up.

But Caspian couldn't be bothered with it, he just wanted to close his eyes and sleep for a moment. His body hurt beyond belief, and he was very glad he had brought Lucy's fireflower cordial, for if he were to live he'd probably need it. And even if they hadn't had it, Caspian was far too much of a stubborn man to give into the blackness on the edge of his vision, or the raw sanguine pain in his chest. Reasoning that he still had a piece of his mind he wanted to give to a certain Lion, and how could he give in when he hadn't done so?

"Ed, what did you mean though? Years of hell? We were only on the island for a few hours," Lucy's face scrunched up in thought.

"Edmund, you do not have to speak of it if you do not wish to," Caspian said quietly, knowing the haunted look in Edmund's eyes was the same one he bore when he awoke each morning alone.

Shaking his head, "No, it's alright. I need... I need to get it off my chest."

And Caspian knew what Edmund would relate would be bad from how long it took the Just King to gather his thoughts.

"I killed you at Jadis' behest," it came out in a gush. "And I lived as her pet human, doing her dirty work, and spreading throughout Narnia." A long pull of the oars, water cascading off the broad paddles, "I grew to be a man, a bitter man, haughty and righteous. I just took what i wanted from others, and never had fear except for that bitch. She..." then his words strangled off, and Caspian caught the meaning. Nodding to Edmund in understanding, encouraging him to skip that part, "Well let's just say she wasn't much of a ...mother..." the word was spat out, twisting like a writhing snake. "They called me Edmund the Destroyer. Or just Reaver." His grip upon the oars tightened until the wood creaked, knuckles going white and then pink, "I gloried in killing - any and all comers."

Lucy shuddered minutely against Caspian, but not enough for Edmund to notice, and Caspian was glad of it - his friend didn't need to feel alienated by his little sister. And he understood what Ed was saying better than anyone else - the relief of just letting go and not caring who you hurt, a way to channel all emotion away so that you're not in pain anymore... It was a relief. But when you came back to yourself - well it wasn't very pleasant at all. Particularly for someone as natively kind in soul as Edmund was.

"Um... shouldn't we be at the Dawn Treader by now?" Lucy was looking over Edmund's shoulder, sitting up, worry tugging her lips down in a frown that shouldn't be on a child's face.

Caspian hoisted himself up to one of the benches, the longboat rocking wildly, so that he could get a clearer look. With a curse, he gestured at Edmund, "Ship the oars, let me row. Everyone - stop thinking. Edmund - you especially should not think at all. There is too much in your mind that could trigger hellish magic. Damnit..."

"Caspian, stop it. You can barely sit up, how the blazes do you think -"

Shoving his friend backwards, Caspian scuttled into his spot, and groaned in agony as he began to row, "You forget I have something on my side."

Lucy huffed as she curled up in the bilges, "Who would've thought madness a boon?"

"Who indeed," the voice was familiar. "Your Majesties, it's 'bout time you got back." Trumpkin threw down a rope, that smacked Caspian between the eyes.

"Ow."

* * *

"So let me get this straight. If Caspian is the one in control then we can get places instantly?" Edmund was pacing, chin in hand.

Trumpkin was trying not to stare, but Caspian caught the looks as the dwarf studied the much changed king. After Lucy had administered her cordial to Edmund only the small wounds at his temples had healed and he hadn't gone back to being fourteen years old in body. Caspian on the other hand felt much restored physically and Edmund's restlessness was making him feel the same. Joining him in his pacing, his hands clasped behind his back, he mulled their predicament.

"It appears that way, but I do not understand it. There is nothing special about me or my mind that I can figure."

Trumpkin snorted derisively, "That's what you think."

Sliding an irritated glance his way, "You think me unsound?" it was time for a confrontation, and Caspian would just as soon as have it out of the way.

"I ain't sayin' that your Majesty," Trumpkin sighed. "It's just you ain't been yourself in a long time."

Rounding on him, "Oh?"

"Well I mean that you're not as level-headed as you used to be."

Nodding, "That is correct - I am not. But think a moment Trumpkin," leaning on the small table the dwarf was sitting at, "I was a boy thrust into a position of absolute power. And the training I had was minimal, for Miraz was ever watchful of what the Professor taught me." Nose to nose now, "I grew up in fear Trumpkin, then I fled for my life. All my beliefs were shattered by your appearance and while I will always be thankful for that, it does not change the fact that I was... affected greatly. Yet I recovered my aplomb, did I not?"

Trumpkin started to nod and Caspian continued, cutting off anything he may have said, "Then I had to watch men under my command die because someone else decided they knew best. And on the heels of that event I had to fight a loosing battle with no hope of surviving, all the while fearing that the woman I had quickly grown to love would die there as well."

Slamming a hand down so hard that the glass of wine there toppled, spilling over the wooden edges to pool on the floor, "And then - and then! Then I had all support taken from me, I had my safe harbour torn from my arms! All because someone thought it was a good idea!" Roaring now each word, "I have done nothing but perform my duties as a king, as a leader for years, and for years before that I worked diligently at going unnoticed so as not to start a civil war - to protect myself and my people! And what do I receive? WHAT DO I RECEIVE!?" Grabbing Trumpkin up by his shirt, shaking him, "I receive pain, pain unimaginable to you. And I make no complaint for years! YEARS! Until my mind and soul have become so broken that I am but a shadow of a man! And yet - and _yet_I continued..." Dropping him, and turning away, ignoring the set of three shocked eyes, "So why would I be as I was?" Collapsing into a chair, face in his hands too tired to do more, emotionally spent, "I will find Aslan. And I will demand he return to me what I need more than anything to continue onwards. For I can take no more my friends, I can take no more... This is my last hope and if it is dashed, then someone should spare me further anguish. "

Only Caspian saw the tiny nod of acceptance from Edmund even though the dark eyes were sad, and a bit of the tremendous weight was taken from Caspian's shoulders with that gesture.

* * *

Caspian sat at the tiller, everyone else had taken a sleeping draught other than Edmund. Each man, be they sailor or dwarf or even Lucy, was bound hands and feet, to ensure they'd not come to make mischief while in the throws of dreams. Against Edmund's more sane judgement he had acquiesced to Caspian's request.

"I don't like this," Edmund muttered, sword bared and resting upon his knees.

"It matters not if you like it," gaze fixed on an empty space in the the coal black sky. "It only matters that you kill anything that comes abovedecks."

"And you trust me to be up here with you?"

"You are the only person I trust Edmund, but that does not mean I trust you fully," glancing at him, "for I trust no one that much anymore. Though - you are my truest friend, and my brother in all but name, for only you would I trust to do for me what is necessary when it is time."

Edmund's lips pursed, his eyes suspiciously moist, "You really think it'll come to that, don't you?"

Sighing, "Stop worrying, you are like an old woman. Act your age and stop using that facile mind of yours for now."

"Oh shut up," amused.

As soon as the silence was absolute, even the sound of wind in canvas or ropes slapping wood muted to insignificance, water not even splashing or being cut by the hull of the Dawn Treader, and Caspian blanked his mind even further, merely trusting his soul to follow the path it needed. Lightening tore the air, yet there was no thunder, and Caspian did not react, nor did Edmund. Both were as statues, and a breeze trickled, filling the sails until they billowed, unmoving. The crackle of ice came as it tried to freeze the Dawn Treader in place, yet still neither man reacted. It was only when a great Wolf followed by a pack came bounding aboard from the frozen flow that surrounded the ship did Edmund move. Poetry of motion as he spoke not a word, nor uttered a grunt when claws scored his leather curiass, keeping the Not-Beasts from Caspian so that he may continue to have his spirit drawn wherever it needed to go - thus pulling the Dawn Treader along behind from the force of it.

Sprays of frigid blood flew on the air, silver glints as Edmund's blades became twin deliverers of death. A flick of a wrist and one sword rammed into furry hides, the other coming down overhanded to behead the first Wolf. Caspian's mind took it all in without thinking, recording the memory deep inside, the hideous screeching from the evil island issued from an inhuman throat, the way the planks thudded to each of Edmund's pounding feet. Wavy soot hair flew on the wind his spinning generated, a booted foot sweeping out to kick a Not-Wolf in the face, sending it nose over end. In the same movement, a continuation of floating on the air, spinning into another opponent, shoulder thrown into it as the blade of the opposite hand plunged in and then out. Heaving this way and that until only the giant Not-Maugrim stood there, watching the whole exchange much the way Caspian was.

And yet, Caspian batted no eyelash, and Edmund was unwinded elevated to some place above reality. Caspian could see why Edmund had been called the Reaver in that flash of time that passed as years. Arms spread just a touch, and with a flick blood and gore was thrown away from the steel. Not-Maugrim was speaking, though the sound was swallowed into meaninglessness under the onslaught of Caspian's will, and Edmund's focused thought free state. Edmund stood there, strong and unmoved, as though saying nothing would ever pass by him unless he willed it. Smooth motions and Edmund had re-sheathed his swords, unarmed, right leg sliding backward, presenting his left side to the Not-Wolf leader.

Seeing only an unarmed human, Not-Maugrim pounced, and then made as though squealing in agony, though yet again no utterance came, two throwing daggers pierced it's hide. More came like rain, in the Not-Wolf's eyes, sprouting flanks, and then swords in hand again, Edmund stepped forward, spattered with blood - much of it his own, and much more that was not - using his twin swords as scissors cutting off the Not-Creature's head.

Sunlight burst through, darkness melting away, sound roaring back into reality, thought slamming into Caspian's mind like a hammer, and the body's decayed before his eyes. Wind snapped through the rigging, water crashed on the hull, and Edmund collapsed with a groan to his knees, a sword planted in the deck all that held him up.

Free of the horror behind them, Caspian thought fleetingly that Edmund should have reverted but he had not. Evidence of their travails still littered the planks, and Edmund's wounds still poured. Locking the tiller in place, Caspian went to his friend, dragging him back to the bench, and smacking his cheeks to revive him.

"No... I don't want to change again, wake me up later..." incoherent mumblings.

"Wake up so that you can have some cordial," rapping Edmund between the eyebrows.

"Ow! What was that for?" sitting up, then swaying to the side, clutching his chest, "Ah damn. I hate getting clawed the most. Where's that damn cordial? The Wolves have a tendency to smear shit on their claws so that their prey dies of poison if not bloodloss..."

Rolling his eyes, "That is what I am trying to do."

"Oh, why didn't you say so?"

* * *

AN: Well that took a bit of doing, yes I know that this is the length of a whole nother chapter, but it reads more like one chapter if you combine both part one and part two. Sooo... Yeah. And because I say so! Oh and by the by - something fun will happen next chapter. Oh yes fun fun indeed... Oh and I haven't forgotton about How Much Wood that's supposed to be added to the I Love set, but chapter seven took alot of my mental powers to pound out properly. You don't even wanna know how many rewrites this thing went through... So hey - who loves Changed!Edmund? Now I can make him snarkier like he should be... And who doesn't love having two big strapping men protecting them? Oh you know y'all are dreamin' 'bout it. Sword weilding hotties to protect you from all the nasties that are in Narnia - oh yeah baby. Hell.. sign me up... I wonder where I can find me some sword weilding Ben Barnes lookalikes?

Reviews make me happy. If I'm happy I write. If I write then I post. If I post then you can read. If you can read - they you're happy. See there's a whole line of logic here. So review and you'll get Ben Barnes, Caspian or Edmund. Though you may have to wipe Edmund clean after mars'mallows drools all over him.


	10. Days Go By But No Time Passes 8

Chapter 8

Days Go By But No Time Passes

AN: So, you all wanna know how Susan gets to Narnia? C'mon nod, cuz we all know that question's been bugging you. What? Don't tell me you thought that Aslan would just y'know - magically summon her when Caspian found Him? Bah - too easy. And it makes Susan a damn damsel in distress or a reward or some kinda object. I'm an equal opportunity kinda gal.

Hey a funny bit of trivia about me (or at least I think it's funny and isn't that what matters?) - I wrote a whole book in WordPad. Funny huh? Oh god though when I put it into Word to run the spellcheck it said it couldn't handle all the stuff at once... And if you've never tried to write 400 plus pages in WordPad then you haven't lived... Just kidding. But yes I write mainly in WordPad because I'm too lazy to install my Word program. Idiotic huh? Eh well, I'm gonna fix that soon... Otherwise someone may just hurt me. I'll do it tomorrow.

* * *

"Things change," Aslan was laying with his head atop her legs, gazing at Susan.

Swallowing, "How did you get here?"

It was as though the great lion's eyebrow quirked, "Of all the questions to ask that is the one you utter?"

"Su..." Peter groaned in disbelief.

"Well what should I ask?" frowning, though the weight of his head was quite welcome, making her feel peaceful and safe. But not nearly as much as the weight of Caspian did.

"Instead, allow me to ask you a question dear ones," Aslan chuckled.

Susan leaned back on her elbows waiting, while Peter eagerly came closer asking, "What would you ask of us?"

"Not of you Peter, but of Susan." His eyes were unwavering, and Susan was almost lost in them, "You would have to earn your heart's desire. To work for it - though you have already sacrificed much for it before. It is not that you have not earned it, that I will say, for you have done so and more. But it is that he has set a task for himself that he must finish before he can gain the opportunity to gain it. And so must you now, if it is your wish."

Susan cupped a hand over her still mostly flat belly protectively, "Will we be alone?"

"You are never alone dear one."

Susan knew she had to word this carefully, for Aslan would only deliver to the letter what she said she required. Taking a deep breath to calm her shaking nerves, her eyes alighted on Peter, sitting there, so protective of her, and his family. Could she take the thought of depriving him of the piece of Narnia she carried? Or the others?

"My siblings will accompany me so that I may accomplish the goal you set for me," and pushed out the rest in a rush, "we'll need some kind of ability to defend ourselves otherwise it'll be no use."

Aslan looked at her sadly, "Think you me so unkind as to leave you and your child defenseless? Peter goes with you as you request, as for Lucy and Edmund, you will find them when they need you most."

Peter grabbed Susan's hand, giving it a firm supportive squeeze, "You mean Ed and Luce are already in Narnia?"

"That is so. Now, you must find your way to my land, for it is only there that I have all my powers."

"Aslan?" a fear lanced her heart.

"Yes?"

"What if I... I want... the child? The child will it be born when..?" unsure of how to ask or what to ask.

Aslan's look was soft, "Time shall pass but it shan't for you and the child. The clock will move forward once more when you are complete," and He breathed on her. Then, "Climb upon my back my children and hold tight as this journey is dangerous."

* * *

Susan came to in a vault. It was dark and it was damp and not at all comfortable. Well of course it wasn't comfortable - it was a _vault_. Looking around she noticed several things. One of which was that this wasn't just a vault - it was a tomb. The second was that she was on some stone slab, wrapped in raiment as though for a royal burial. And the third - that she wasn't alone at least. Peter was groaning and rubbing at his head, clanking lightly with every movement. Funny - Susan didn't have a headache at all, she felt just fine. Rejuvenated almost. But Peter looked the worse for wear, as he gingerly slid off his slab.

"Where are we?"

Susan shrugged, "Narnia?" giving him an almost 'duh' look.

Peter grunted as he examined himself, clothed in chainmail and leather, "I know that Su, I meant where in Narnia."

"A tomb," matter-of-fact, hopping from her perch. "What does it matter anyway? We're here, and we need to get to Aslan's Country. Simple."

"Since when are you so driven?" dusting himself free of cobwebs.

Susan made her way around the medium circular room, poking through bits and pieces of armour, gold, weapons and trinkets, "Since I have a goal Peter. I'm going to see Caspian, I'm going to accomplish whatever I have to to get that chance. And there's nothing anyone can do or say to make me waste this chance." Turning to look at him, "Are you going to come or not? Are you going to just try and go back to being High King? Or are you going to help me?"

Relieving a large suit of armour of it's warspear, "Shit Susan, now you ask? Besides," giving it an experimental twirl, "I told you that I'd take care of you. And I will."

"Good," trying to find something slightly more practical than the robes she was wearing. Pursing her lips, "I wonder who's tomb this was? All of this stuff looks Narnian, but even older than when we ruled."

Her fingers hit upon a thick skirt, that had heavy silk pants that would go beneath it, and figuring that that would be more comfortable than the weight of diamond and cloth of cold skirts any day she redressed herself. A large yew and bone bow was propped up next to a statue of a stately queen, holding an apple smiling benevolently out on the contents of the vault. Bowing to the effigy with respect, Susan slung the bow and quiver over her shoulder.

"Su I don't think we should take too much," Peter was watching her as she stuffed several changes of clothes, a knife, and a pouch of coins into a satchel.

Snorting, "Aslan dropped us off here for a reason. We don't know where we are in Narnia, Peter, so we need to be prepared." Glancing over her shoulder at him, "I thought you were practical enough to at least figure that out."

"It doesn't feel right taking things from here," even as he joined her in sifting for useful items.

"We were meant to," leaning back, pressing fists into the small of her back, Susan stretched, "otherwise we wouldn't be here."

* * *

They'd found their way out by following a long low tunnel that looked to have been made for dwarves, dragging their supplies behind them, walking in a crouching waddle. Peter pushed brambled overgrowth from the tunnel, and helped Susan get out, even though she really would have rathered do for herself. Sun beat down through marshy air, the funk of dead and rotting life in water mixing with a riot of living and growing things, making for a rather thick miasma. Wrinkling her nose, Susan coughed several times to clear her lungs, for she thought that now would be a very bad time to suffer from the malady of being pregnant. Though she only felt a vague nausea much as she would if she had not been with child. In worry her hand flew to her stomach, pressing, feeling, trying to reassure herself. The curve was still firm like it had been before she'd awakened in this place.

Releasing a sigh of relief, and then checking the position of the sun, Susan tried to figure out where they were. Being rather bookish she knew the skies of Narnia like she knew Caspian's face - from the tiny freckles under his eyes to the mole on the right side of his mouth, down to the scar on his foot from where he'd dropped a knife on it as a child (according to him). But of course since it was still day, with the sun high - she marked the time several hours past noon - her stargazing skills weren't much help.

"Hey Su?" Peter's voice broke her reverie.

"What?"

He came a bit closer, swinging the large spear down from where he'd had it slung over his shoulder, "Do you know what sort of creatures those are?"

"Those aren't creatures Peter, they're men," squinting.

They were dressed strangely, unlike anything she'd ever seen - with mud smeared over any visable skin, and in their hair, clothing that mimicked tree bark and floating moss. And they were well armed. Unslinging her bow, knocking an arrow, the siblings waited. A cry rose from the group when they spotted Peter and Susan, though they didn't bare their weapons at the duo. Cautiously the small group approached, eyeing Susan's bow and Peter's spear in awe.

"King Montanban? Queen Hespireth?" the leader spoke.

"No, we're High Queen Susan and High King Peter," Susan let Peter speak - he would've shushed her anyways.

With a gesture to the tunnel behind them, suspicion flavoured the words, "You came from their burial place?"

"Yes."

"And you say you are not King Montanban and Queen Hespireth?"

"That's right, we're not," Peter was starting to sound irritated.

The man turned to the others and spoke rapidly in whispers amongst themselves before turning back to them, "We should take you to our Master."

Susan spoke up finally, "And who would your master be?"

Bowing low, "The Magician of Bryce."

Susan and Peter gave eachother a look that seemed to say it all. Sighing knowing they probably didn't have much choice in the matter Peter gestured, "Then lead on to this magician, sir."

* * *

I don't like this chapter, but then again Julia pointed out quite reasonably that the tone of Susan's chapter should be lighter than Caspian's - she just got what she wanted. She's in Narnia, and knows she'll find Caspian eventually. So yes. Sorry for how long it's taken me to get this out - I honestly didn't mean for it to take so long. But between the bunny for A Terrible Twist and also how viciously I was attacked by How Much Wood (Can A Woodchuck Chuck) it took me a bit to get back to this. Plus as I said - I'm not very satisfied with it, but it does move the story along. Well I take that back - I like it up until the last section.

So - tell me your thoughts, and I shall listen! What's next you ask? Well you tell me.

A) Caspian has a dream with Susan in it so they can have some snuggle-smut or angsty-smut (you tell me if you want option A1 or A2)

B) Caspian and crew go to another island and fighting happens

C) Edmund stuff - and he talks to Aslan in his dream. As well as action.

You may have two choices.

Also - I'll be posting choices for a reward fic on How Much Wood - because frankly I owe you guys one. Wrote 5 sections (at about 30k words) for A Terrible Twist, posted Perfect Lives and now this chapter is up finally. So of course y'all deserve another fic reward. Or cookies - you tell me.


	11. Mirror Mirror In A Bowl 9

Chapter 9

Mirror Mirror In A Bowl

AN: Yes I know this is late, in fact I know it's really really late. My profuse apologies. Thanks to ReLaFay for moral support in the direction I'm taking this. Thanks also to kimidragon for being entertained by my Dark!Peter, and to JayJay for being the best roomie ever. Thanks also to mars'mallows for loving Edmund and telling me that she'll never look at Peter the same way since A Terrible Twist. Thanks also to emeraldteardrops for being kickass in general. And thankyou everyone for your patience. I'll be spreading the choices y'all made for this chapter out over several chapters instead - it's just how it came out, but at least it gave me a kick in the head. Oh and thank you also to anfieldgyul, emeraldteardrops, maaika-fluffy, and Esyla for updating their stories. They reawakened the spark of pleasure in this fandom that I need periodically by updating their fics. For that I'm indebted to them.

* * *

Peter was sitting down, uncomfortable in his stolen gear, but not showing any inkling of that. He also missed having a sword, but a great spear was good enough. Frankly if truth had been known he preferred it - a spear was good for keeping others at a distance, yet also could be used in closer quarters. Not only that but a spear had more uses than as a weapon, if one wanted to take on a boar a spear was the only way to do it. It worked on bears too. But that was neither here nor there, shifting in his seat, eyeing the Magician. Bryce wasn't what he'd expected at all - certainly the Magician reeked of age and magic, but the fact that she was a she wasn't what he'd thought would be at all.

The Magician was humming to herself, fussing about with a large mirror interiored bowl, filled with water. Gestures of a mystic nature were passed over the glimmering fluid, and the faintest images were thrown back. They made no sense to Peter, and while he wanted to break the quiet, the King didn't feel it politic to do so. Susan was intense as she sat there, authority settling over her shoulders in a heavy mantle Peter hadn't seen in centuries it felt like. Snorting to himself, that in a way centuries _had_ passed since she'd worn her status like battle armour and weapons - ready to defend or attack at the least provocation. It was a facet of her personality that most discounted, often to their chagrin. All this made the air crackle around them, from his discomfort, to the Magician's magic, to Susan's force of personality.

Struggling to not just get up and shake the Magician, Peter clenched his hands into fists, waiting. Always waiting it seemed like.

Laughing eyes glanced up at him from where the Magician wove traceries, then she looked to Susan, "Interesting that you should show up here."

Starting to open his mouth, Peter was silenced as the air moved with Susan's leaning forward, "As interesting as a female Magician."

"Ah, or maybe a female warrior?"

"Nay, more of a witch be you than mage methinks," the words rolled from Susan's mouth, odd inflection, cold.

Peter grasped the haft of his spear tightly, ready to move at any moment.

"And more of a Queen than a warrior," it was snickered.

"Be foolish and judge me aught," warning snapping, hand smacking down on the table, making the mirrored bowl jump.

Tut-tut-ing, the Magician repositioned the bowl, "Hot-tempered ye be then?"

"Twould seem so, would it not?" the room became chilly, like ice was spreading from the outside.

His breath frosted on the air, and Peter struggled to figure out what was going on - though it was apparent that a battle of wills waged between the two women.

The acrid burn of ozone filled his nostrils, shoving away the chill. He couldn't tell from which woman it was coming from, but it seemed passing strange overall - Susan had no power over elements. Then he realized that it wasn't exactly coming from his sister, but from something else entirely - from the spear he was clutching. Wordless, Peter pushed even more of his will into the weapon, hoping that it would quietly break the stalemate.

Of it's own accord Peter's body started to stand up, driven by something unseen, reaching to smash the mirrored bowl on the table. Suddenly he was pinned by a glare, thrown back across the room that had seemed so small with close walls, but also so distant...

"Foolish boy," it was growled.

Reality started to spin, but he managed to hang on, Susan's voice was snapping and crackling in the background giving Peter the strength to stand up. He wouldn't pretend to know a single thing that was going on here, or understand a damn thing he saw, yet for some reason he realized that this was some sort of _test_.

Snarling, he'd never liked tests, the High King leveled his war-spear, springing forward covering the close-yet-far distance.

"Very good," and hyper-reality and faux-reality collided around Peter, dropping him in a small room, sitting in a chair once more, Susan beside him straight-backed. Bryce cocked her long white-haired head, gazing at him steadily, "You will defend her no matter what. That is very good. Very good."

"What was that all about anyway?" Peter finally spoke, leaning on the tabletop.

Overly perfect white teeth sparkled at him from thin lips, "The Queen had to show me that she was strong enough for this silly boy, and you, you had to show me that you were willing to stop at nothing to protect her - even if you did not understand _what_ you were protecting her from."

Still confused, Peter sighed, rubbing at the pounding headache that was throbbing in his temples. It had started when they arrived in Narnia and had yet to abate. Woozy the room started to spin, and he feared that this was another test, but as he clutched his war-spear as though it were some talisman, darkness descended.

* * *

Peter awoke nauseaous. Violently so, and rolled over holding his stomach as he retched dryly, head too many times too small for his brain. Coughing hard enough to dislodge his head, bile sour and bitter on his tongue and in his throat, scents too sharp, heart beating to fast, hot, cold, dizzy, sticky.

"Take deep breaths," a cool cloth pressed to the back of his neck, easing some of the disgusting feeling he was having.

Grunting, "Easier said than done Su."

"That is certainly _odd,_" another voice joining them. "Here let me see the boy." Barely noticing that Susan got up from sitting on the edge of a bed, another person took Su's spot. Long boney hands touched his face - cheeks, forehead, chin, lips and over his eyes. "Hmm...hmmm..."

"What's wrong with him?" Peter curled into a ball when the prodding stopped.

"His time has been sped up," curt. "Let me get a better look at you too dear," and there was quiet shuffling. "Oh dear, well that makes sense I suppose," mumbling. Then clearer, "Well I suppose He works in mysterious ways."

Snorting through the pain, "When does He _not_ work in mysterious ways?"

There was a light rap to his skull that made Peter cry out in pain, "Do not speak of Aslan in such a fashion!"

"Oh leave him be Bryce, Peter's not used to whatevers wrong with him. Besides - what did you mean about his time being sped up?"

Puttering back and forth, clinking of glassware, "He is aging double time. You aren't aging at all. The little High King is also suffering from the effects of your state, rather than you going through it. Very interesting if I do say so myself - I was always of the mind that things would be better if men knew more about a woman's lot."

Groaning, Peter sat up, "You can't mean that I'm pregnant! That's... that's just not done!"

Bryce turned, eyebrow arched, "Who said anything about you being with child? You just have the side-effects of it. Do not worry, you shall be feeling worse soon enough."

"Damn," Susan swore, making Peter's head jerk towards her - she rarely swore. "We'll never get to Aslan's Country and Caspian if I have to cart him around." Peter's eyes started to cross as he watched her stride from one end of the room to the other, chin in hand, eyes narrow as she stared at the floor, "Fine, I suppose there's no help for it. Bryce?"

Woozily Peter tried to focus on the still spinning room, "Su - you'll just have to leave me behind. I can't function like this..."

Waving at him dismissively, Susan stared the Magician down, "You have to do something about this. Aslan wouldn't have brought us to this island without reason. That means you can help us. So - do so," her voice cracked like a whip.

"You think to order me?" Bryce tossed her hair, hands on hips. "Listen here little Queen - I have been alive longer than you can even imagine, long before you were little more than a spark in your great great grand-sire's eye!"

Susan laugh was full, "Think so? I highly doubt that. How long have you lived then? How long do you think I have been the High Queen?"

Shrugging as though it were inconsequential, "No more than a few years."

"Try more than thirteen-hundred Bryce," Peter put his head in his hands, staring down at the floorboards between his fingers, praying to Aslan to make the hell he was feeling go away. Apparently having morning-sickness at double speed and aging wasn't so great.

To that Bryce had nothing to say - her jaw was open as she looked back and forth between them then gave herself a shake. "Hmph - fine, so you have a few years on me. That does not mean you can order me about."

"Look Bryce, I'd be personally grateful if you could do something about me feeling like this, but if you're going to be a sow about it, that's your business. I just don't think Aslan will be too pleased," Peter pinned her with a stink-eye that he'd practiced on minotaurs back in his heyday. Too bad it didn't work on English bullies - but that's because they hadn't the brains Aslan had granted a walnut.

But it seemed as though it worked just fine on Magicians.

* * *

Feeling much rejuvenated from the draught that Bryce had given him, Peter stuck like glue to Susan's side as they followed the Magician around her island village. It wasn't very majestic, but there was a gentle charm to it - even if the air was thick enough to chew with swampy smells.

"So you wish to find Aslan's Country? Odd that He did not drop you off there," Bryce mused aloud.

"Not really, you know Him - He always wants you to get there on your own two feet, but that doesn't mean he won't help along the way," Susan was looking off into the distance as he said this. This was a focused Susan, the warrior that almost never came out, quiet and firm, unstoppable as the rising of the sun. For his part, Peter was glad she didn't let that aspect of herself out often - otherwise he wouldn't have been the final word in Narnia when they ruled. She would have. Ultimately his sister was too soft to be hard enough to make the truly harsh decisions - she'd run away in tears after he'd had to order the first execution when they were in Narnia originally.

"True, He is a wily one at times," he turned his head, noticing that Bryce was studying him intently.

Smiling, "He wouldn't be who He is if He wasn't. Wisdom isn't always turning the other cheek, sometimes it's out-thinking everyone else."

"You truly are the old High King and Queen then, it seems," licking her lips in speculation.

"Whatever you're thinking, it had better be beneficial," it was soft, yet Susan's tone was unyielding. Still she stared off into the distance, as though she could see Caspian.

"Of course Your Majesty," sarcasm dripping from the title.

At that Peter's temper showed itself as well, "Careful Bryce, Magician you may be, but we're here by Aslan's Will - you know that, so stop being obstinate."

"Who said I was not going to help you? Who says I was being difficult? You are the ones who are too hard-headed. You must relax or you shall never reach the Queen's goal," the woman stopped, her tone gentle and serious.

"What are we to think? We get here and are subjected to tests, and have been given little information of use," Peter faced Bryce.

Philosophically, "I have my people to protect, there have been many attacks, some of my charges have died. You cannot fault me for wanting to be sure of you."

Peter perked up at that, worried - he knew well the desire to guard his people, "Attacks? What sort of attacks?"

"I am not the only Magician, High King," it sounded tired. "Men can be so unreasoning, so greedy in their bids for power that they do not remember that we are here only on Aslan's sufferance. While 'tis true that even this world cannot be all sun and roses, love and peace - there are some who truly forget their places and seek to supplant He who guides us all. Free will - it is a tricky thing, and too many take advantage of His love, in how He has given us choices in our paths."

"Where is this Magician then?" Peter felt it his duty to rid any land of something that was vile and harmful.

Susan shook her head, turning to look at him, "Peter, we're not here for that. We're here for Caspian. Or at leas I am." Her hand rested on his forearm, "If we come across this Magician, then yes, I will fight, but if it is not to be... Peter we're not here to seek trouble, merely to prevent it. Later, once things are under control you can hare off on such a quest. But we are only two, and most likely can't succeed at such a task without Caspian's help."

Bryce cut in, "What if I were to help you?"

"Help us do what? Get rid of this Magician?"

"No, what if I were to help you reach this Caspian of which you speak? And Aslan's Country? Would you help me in turn? Help my people?" the hope shining in her eyes was almost too much to look at.

Sharing a glance with Susan, and at her subtle nod, Peter stuck out his hand to Bryce, "For your people, and for whatever aid you can give us - we would be happy to look into this matter, and take the appropriate actions."

The Magician grasped his hand firmly at the wrist, binding the promise with agreement, "Then I shall provide you with a ship to sail from this island, a map, and sailors. For my people's protection, I will do almost anything. They have been under my wing for centuries, and I cannot let them suffer any longer while there is hope."

* * *

Peter watched as Susan stood at the prow, hair streaming behind her in a sourceless wind, the setting sun throwing long shadows that reached for her. Bryce's island was behind them, as was the sun, yet the High King fought off the fear and the worry - he had to be strong for his sister and her child. Even if he did seem to suffer from more sea-sickness than usual...

Shaking it off, Peter took a swig from one of the flask Bryce had given him, to calm the worst effects. There was no room for uncertainty, he must belive in Aslan, in his sister, and in himself. Leaning against the mainmast, his the butt of his warspear planted beside him, he kept vigil. He was the shield that protected Susan, he was the sword she would wield when necessary and he would not falter. No matter what this journey would bring, he would be there, and he would stand strong, knowing that they _would_ achieve their final goal no matter what.

Middle-Islanders, what Bryce called her people, scurried in the rigging, sure-footed sailors one and all. All volunteers, all men, all with admirable skills with this ship. If Peter squinted though, the figurehead seemed to move, to breath, speaking to Susan. In a land where a Lion was the Creator, where mythical creatures abounded - a magic ship was little to be surprised by. Smiling, and in a land where four children could become Kings and Queens, anything was possible.

AN: For some reason this chapter was like pulling teeth - even worse than the prior chapter. As I'm posting this chapter, I am also working on chapter 10. I'm so sorry everyone for how long this took me to get out. I promsie I'll do better, normally I'm decent with deadlines, but yeesh, this was just not wanting to be written. That and I had a Little!Caspian who wanted To Be A Prince written. Well - that's neither here nor there, I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed, and sent kicks to the head my way - couldn't've done it without all of you.

Also thank you to the readers, thank you to those who've fav'd this, thank's to the reviewers, and thanks to my coffee machine as well as my cats. And let's not forget to selene15, and KMarie, whom I've not been able to thank through replies - you're reviews have not gone unnoticed, nor unappreciated. And once more - I can't thank RleFay enough - truly your comparison of these character's journeys to the greats takes my breath away. Thank you.

So - got a few more kicks to my head to give me? Or maybe a refill on my coffee cup? Or heck, even a review? I love all the above quite alot.


	12. Warrior Show Me The Way 10A

Chapter 10: Part One

Warrior - Show Me The Way

AN: More Edmund goodness. He wanted to come out to play. I figure at this exact moment it's more important to do whatever it takes to get the story to flow from my head, than to do the choice thingies. Though as I said before - I'll incorporate them, so don't worry. Caspian's will be the next chapter, though this chapter is broken in half, due to Ed POV.

* * *

Edmund lay staring at the ceiling, one arm behind his head, the other draped over his chest. Was it just this morning that he was still an adolescent? He was ashamed for having given into dark temptation for a second time in his life - he was far older than his body showed, a man twice over, he'd seen fourteen years three times. So he should have known better, should have been wiser. Scratching at his stomach absentmindedly Ed repressed a shudder. Eating dinner with Lucy had been hard, he'd kept wanting to reach over and grab her, hug her close and tell her how sorry he was.

If he hadn't been saved by Alsan that day so long ago... he could have killed his entire family. The Island had shown him that, it had been his worst nightmare, a dream he'd never even let himself remember. Lucy's shock had twisted her features when he'd beheaded her at the Not-Jadis' orders. Of course that hadn't really been Lucy, but it was close enough. That look of pained betrayal, and even forgiveness - Ed sat up quickly, reaching for a knife, and sliced a line on the inside of his thigh. Red welled up in a fine line, next to a seeming solid patch of scar tissue from knee to groin. Edmund knew that it wasn't though, it was just that everyday, everynight in that blink of time, he'd cut himself four times - once for Peter, once for Susan, and twice for Lucy. Over the days and weeks and years that passed in that instant, the scars accumulated until it was that swath.

Fingers shaking, Edmund stared at his pasty leg, almost plunging the knife into his thigh, digging for an artery.

But he wouldn't. The memories were real enough, even if they hadn't happened in _this_reality - they had still happened. And he should be punished for that, and living was penance enough. Carving in three more measured slashes, Edmund didn't even hiss in reaction to the pain. Evening ritual finished, Edmund felt a release of some of his mental pressure as the bright flashes of pain roared from his leg. Taking a damp towel he wiped away the worst of the blood, and slid back beneath his covers to once more stare at the wood beams above his head. In some ways it felt strange to be alone in the bunk, it was different from the large fur draped bed he'd shared with Not-Jadis most nights, her form radiating a soul-deep chill. Clenching his fist in his coal black hair, Edmund shoved that aside once more. Caspian had given him a look on the longboat, as though he'd had some idea as to what he'd suffered at the hands of his nightmares. Rolling over, the Reaver curled into a ball, more that creation than the Just King, and he began to pray to Aslan, struggling for breath.

He needed His guidance more than ever, needed his faith in Him, for he was naught but a lost soul trying to remember the strength he'd had earlier. Emptiness was gnawing at him, causing him to toss and turn, awake, clutching at his sides then his hair the hugging himself, searching for something that was lost. But he had to have certainty, even if he didn't have trust - because Lucy's faith had already been shaken, and Caspian had long since lost his. Clinging to that knowledge wasn't helping him, it was only making him hurt more. With a growl he got up from bed, yanking on a pair of breeches. Not looking at them, it was that evil white butter soft leather he'd worn off the island, hating not just his changed body, his lack of will power, but everything that reminded him of those blasted years to a point where the only way to function was to not think about it.

Without thought, Edmund wrapped his main swordbelt around his hips, the scabbard tapping against his leg comforting in its weight. Exiting his cabin he padded to Lucy's and entered silently. Closing the door without even the faintest of clicks, he went to his sisters' bed and knelt, watching her breath deeply in sleep.

Brushing her hair off her face where it had fallen forward, "Please Aslan, help me make this right. Help me bear these burdens I have taken upon my shoulders. Protect her, protect Caspian - help us please. We need you. I need you."

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, then left her room. Even when in thrall he had felt remorse though he hadn't let it show - the Not-Jadis would have flayed him if he had. Going above decks, he wasn't surprised to see Caspian, clasping Su's horn in his hands, cradling it like an infant to his bare chest.

A glance was tossed his way as he approached, but no words were spoken, just space on the small bench at the prow.

Seating himself, Edmund put his back to the rail, head tipped and watched the sky.

"You look like shit," the words were muttered, causing Edmund to chuckle darkly.

"So do you," pointing out to Caspian the obvious.

"Apparently," shifting and then quiet once more.

Two brothers, two very scarred men, shoulder to shoulder looking to the sky and sea for different things that were the same - salvation.

"A fine pair we make," breaking the silence, as he rubbed his chin.

Grunting, Caspian flicked his eyes over to him, "Hmph." Caspian bent over, and pulled from it's hiding place behind his leg a flask, passing it to him, "Did you check on Lucy?"

Surprised, "Yes."

"Good, you need it," as though knowing that his littler sister was a salve.

There were no offers to 'talk about it', but the companionable silence, the acceptance was soothing.

Later as his eyes were drifting open and closed, Edmund realized that the whiskey had been dosed with something.

"Go to sleep brother, you are safe," it was whispered, even as the world started to slip away, a strong arm coming about his middle, hoisting him into a firemans carry. Wood planks swam into view, then stairs as Caspian carried him back down, then a door was nudged open and Edmund's perspective flipped, his back hitting mattress with a thud.

"Whudyagimmee...?" tongue thick in his mouth.

"Poppyjuice, it helps me sleep," a hand lay over his forehead, swordsman's callouses brushing his temple, dark eyes looking down at him. "I will keep watch brother, rest. You need it."

"Mph - so d'you..." grumbling trying to hang onto consciousness. Caspian must have dosed the whiskey strong enough to fell a lesser man.

There was a shrug, and scrape of chair, bare feet thunking onto the bed next to his legs as Caspian slouched in the chair arms crossed, "Sleep. I do not need it."

No longer able to fight it, Edmund sank deep into swirling darkness.

* * *

Jadis was standing there in her icey glory, scowling at him, "I can't believe I let you out of my sight for a day - a _day_ and you dare to do this to me? Have you no love for your Mother?"

Edmund winced, falling to a knee, head bowed, "I am sorry Mother, I have failed you in my duty."

"You killed Maugrim! Well of course he wasn't much use, but Edmund dear - you know better than that," frozen fingers cupped his chin, lifting his face up. Her nails were sharp and dug into his flesh - he knew how sharp they were for his back bore many a scar, "You know that this means it comes out of your hide. Disobeying a direct order... tsk-tsk."

So cold he felt, so worn, no warmth left inside of him, Edmund merely nodded his acquiescence - afterall he deserved every punishment she dealt him. How long had it been since he'd been warm? How long had it been since he'd smiled while not in a battle frenzy? How long had it been since he'd become this dark husk swathed in white? Her lips pressed to his forehead, a mockery of affection - had he ever known affection? - his circlet of icicles digging it's claws deeper into his brain with the touch of her mouth.

Crying out, bloody tears sprang from his skin and from his eyes, drops spilling from his nostrils, trickles that burnt white-cold-hot tracks from his ears and his mouth. Shuddering, all that held him up was Jadis' hand on his chin, her impossible strength keeping him there as he relived the instant he'd truly become her creature. Muscles seized, mouth open and panting as even his teeth bled from the questing growths that wriggled in his abused brain.

It was when one of those filaments touched on the pleasure center of his mind that shame filled him - his body quivered in brilliant orgasm-pain, and then it was over. Jadis was smiling down at him where he was heaped at her feet, then she beckoned, and to her bedroom he crawled on hands and knees, following in her wake.

_Wake up!_ a distant thump on his flesh, ghostly that passed quickly.

Ignoring it, Edmund just kept his eyes focused on getting to his destination, he'd need all his strength soon, for Jadis was nigh insatiable. His hand landed on one of the fur rugs around the bed, the head of the Badger it had belonged to staring at him accusingly. She was sitting there, her robes still on, waiting for him to come the rest of the way to her. Not thinking, blanking his mind, Ed continued to accept his punishment, resting his cheek on her frigid leg her fingers combing through his hair.

_Edmund! Wake up!_ another shake, it made him twitch.

In response Jadis cut his cheek with a nail, hissing, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing Mother, anything you wish me to Mother, I am sorry..." hoarse whisper.

"Hmm.. good then," her hands going to the ties of her dress.

Not looking her in the eye, Edmund pushed the fabric aside, leaning up to nip and suck at her diamond hard skin. His hand sliped up the skirt, heading for the coldest part of her body, stroking it with his fingers, while Jadis sighed in pleasure, nails gouging his scalp where she held his head.

_Brother wake up in Aslan's Name!_ and something hot was splashed on him.

* * *

Jerking upwards with a roar, Edmund had his hands wrapped around Caspian's neck until he realized it _was_ Caspian standing over him. Sharp pain radiated from his wrist where Caspian was pinching a pressure point, forcing his grip to slacken. With a full body shiver, Ed let go of him, throwing him back with a shove. Rolling off the bed, Ed collapsed, shaking, freezing cold sweat rolling off of him, hair plastered to his face in clumps.

There was a grunt as Caspian got back up, and something warm was wrapped around him, Edmund went willingly into the embrace as Caspian rocked him side to side. It was strange, he had seen more years than Caspian, yet at the moment as well as many others, it was as if Caspian truly was his older brother. At one time it had been Peter who soothed his night terrors in Narnia, or even Susan, oh Aslan how he hoped she was doing alright. The only sound was Caspian's breathing, and the rasping of the blanket that Ed was bundled in on his frigid skin.

"Never warm.. never be warm..." his fingers were claws where they dug into Caspian's forearm.

Caspian scooted around so his back was against the bunk, and Ed was moved along with him, twitching, eyes wide, seeing frozen vistas superimposed over the blond of the wooden walls. No knock, yet the door opened, and Lucy was in his arms, the warmth in the room from his family fighting the shards in his heart. Edmund fell asleep once more, Caspian's mute strength of will supporting him, and Lucy's love chipping away at his pain.

* * *

"Let him rest," the voice was quiet but full of command.

"Oh but won't he want to come to the island with us?" something small and cuddly was pressed into his side.

Coming awake by degrees, familiar feelings of Lucy clutching his arm, head on his shoulder. How many times had he wakened with her having crawled into bed with him when he'd had a nightmare? Peter must be sitting at the foot of his bed, leaning against the wall watching over both of them. Yet Peter's voice wasn't quite right, wrong acent and all that.

"I do not think it wise that we land, but we do need supplies," it was an agitated sigh. "Water is running low, and the crew are becoming restless. Yet as much as we could use Edmund ashore, I believe he needs to heal more than we need him there."

"Caspian?" frowning as his eyes blinked open. Then it all came rushing back - Narnia, the Island of Dreams, nightmare...

"Drink this," metal flask pressed to his lips.

Edmund didn't swallow, just pushed it away, "Not dosing me again brother." Stretching as he sat up, he realized he was in Caspian's cabin, all three of them huddled on the bed - Caspian at the foot of it, slouching on the wall, wrist balanced on a raised knee. Lucy was - predictably - flopped next to him looking her usual grownup-innocent self.

"Did you sleep better this time?" Lucy hopped off the bed and grabbed a glass and poured water from the pitcher into it for him.

He tried not to stare at Lucy when he took the glass, draining it, marvelling at the trust she always had given him, Ed was reminded once more to never take it for granted.

"Yes," raking his hand through his hair, trying to make it settle. "Now, what's this about an island?" pining Caspian with a look.

Caspian reached for his boots, tugging them on, unconcerned, "An island has been sighted, it appears to be verdant and whatnot, plus the lookout spied what looks to be several flows of water joining with the sea." Riffling through his trunk, Caspian tossed a shirt his way as though knowing that Edmund wouldn't want to wear more of the Island's clothes than necessary, "There is also a fort on it, a small village of white buildings - hopefully we can procure supplies."

"I like how you say 'procure', it sounds fun," Edmund laughed.

Caspian cocked a brow, "And what sort of fun does it sound like then?" He hefted a large pouch that clinked, "I have plenty of gold here, it is not as though we will not pay for it."

Lucy giggled, "Caspian - you're such a spoilsport sometimes!"

Caspian's eyes widened in shock at the suggestion, "You cannot be serious? Surely my ears have deceived me? Hmm - I must truly be mad if you are suggesting such a thing... and especially because it almost makes sense..."

"Brother you look just like a fish, gaping and gasping at air with your mouth hanging open like that," snickering, "I was only joking anyway."

"Aww both of you are no fun!" Lucy stamped her foot, hands on hips, pouting at them. But she was smiling, the sight of which made Edmund forget for a minute that life wasn't quite the same as it had been a few days ago. Squashing that feeling, Ed threw himself into being as normal as he could. Maybe this was how Caspian had felt for all those years, dragged down and only wanting to dwell on pain - well, they were here now, and Edmund would do what he'd always done. Pick up the slack, and work with Lucy on helping their loved ones move on.

* * *

The sand crunched beneath their boots, Edmund standing with Caspian and Lucy, a few soldiers flanking them. With a sliding snickt Edmund snapped his spyglass open, and raised it to his eye, squinting through it. Coming into focus was a lovely village, white-washed stucco - almost Mediterranean in appearance. Scanning the rest of the countryside, rolling hills, and farther back crops grew, swaying in the breeze. Mostly everything appeared normal, laconic, beautiful.

Of course that automatically set him on edge, and he passed the spyglass to Caspian, "Take a look, tell me what you see."

Peering through it, the Telmarine squinted one eye, "Fields, village, fort farther back." There was a grunt as Caspian frowned, "It is more what I do not see that troubles me."

Lucy bounced, snatching the glass from Caspian, and took a look, "People - there's no people."

"That is odd."

"Your turn to state the obvious?" Ed quipped, punching Caspian in the shoulder lightly. Even so, Edmund loosened his swords in their scabbards, just as Caspian did the same. It was Lucy unconsciously mimicking them that made him want to tell her to go back to the ship and stay with Trumpkin. But he did not.

In a casual V-formation they proceeded, making a beeline for the village that was several clicks away.

Silence but for the the jangling of scabbards, the slow beat of footsteps, and a few whispers amongst the men filled their vicinity. Edmund, always quiet in the first place, was now more like Caspian - wordless, no joking, no jostling, just steady. Whereas his friend's intensity had once bothered him, it now made sense, was even comforting. Eventually Lucy, while not so little as to _need_ to be carried was having a visibly hard time keeping up with the men's strides due to their much longer legs. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Caspian swung her to his back without thought, as though it were the most natural thing to do.

Containing a small smile at that, Edmund trudged alongside them. It was obvious to him that Lucy did these things on purpose at times, to remind them to not be so grim. Yet still as normal as this place felt, it still set him on edge. On the other hand he was sure that most normal things would put him on alert now, unable to take anything at face value ever again. After several marks they were in the center of the town, in what would be an open market in most places.

Lucy was poking around quietly, until she yelped.

Edmund's swords were in his hands in a flash and he was by her side, looking around, while Caspian yanked her to him, pushing her between his back and the wall of a cottage.

"Look look!"

"What what? What be they?"

"Oh oh - see them I do!"

Rustlings and thumpings were heard echoing all around the village square, converging closer and closer. The soldiers made a circle of steel, back to back. They all knew better to not get too close to Caspian when Rhindon was drawn, only Edmund had braved fighting in close quarters with him.

"Strange - they look so strange, all shiny!"

"Oho shiny ones shiny shiny!"

The voices got louder and louder, the steady thump-thumpings were almost in time to his heartbeat.

Calm settled over him, peace enfolded him in arms that filled him with strength. Magic made the air stink, like the scent of chlorine and saltwater. Reaver once more, Edmund no longer, they waited.

"Oh pretty, pretty long hair...?"

"Oh one has long hair!"

"No no three three there be! Make them read?"

As a whole the group of soldiers moved more tightly together, each looking about searching.

"Stay calm men," Caspian's voice carried on the wind, soothing, almost hypnotic.

It was a testament to how much they trusted him, how much they believed in their King by the fact that they settled down, faces no longer verging on panic. He was twitching, itching for a fight, yet he didn't let it show, and they continued to wait.

AN: Next post will be the second half of this chapter. After that is Caspian. Mmmsashimi is almost ready... Would anyone like some? I got some fresh tuna, some salmon, some tobiko, and some quail eggs - the rice is just cooling right now before I cut up all that numminess and eat. Plenty to go around...


	13. You Fought Battles And Never Let Up 10B

Chapter 10: Part Two

You Fought Battles And Never Let Up

AN: Hopefully the earlier part wasn't too squicky for y'all - what with Edmund calling Not-Jadis "Mother" while uh... **cough** servicing her. But by now you should all realize that I can be very disturbing on some levels. Plus remember - Edmund's been a man once before, and has an adult's fears of things that are twisted. So of course his nightmare pertaining to the White Witch would have been quite different than when he was younger. Oh and the transformations - lemme clear some of that up. Edmund's aged a few years, not a ton of them - just about three or four, making him closer to Caspian's age physically, but not too close. About 18/19-ish, because time actually passed for him on the Island of Dreams, so his body acomodated all that. Peter's only aging for he and Susan, so instead of aging one day like everyone else, he's aging two days. It's to balance out Susan not aging at all, so her pregnancy doesn't progress. But also her sickness due to her state has to go _somewhere_, so in steps Peter being a nice older brother (even if no one asked him his opinion on this) and now has all the unpleasant feelings of early pregnancy - though it won't progress for him either, because Susan's held in stasis. Sorry if I wasn't more clear last chapters, but that's mainly due to the whole thing feeling like I was yanking my teeth out with pliers.

* * *

It was easy to conclude that he didn't like being tied up. Not at all. And it was even easier to come to the decision that Caspian liked it even less. Lucy on the other hand was handling it all quite well. Edmund tried to keep cool, because as unpleasant as being trussed up was, it would be impossible to get out of the situation without staying collected.

"I shall kill you! All of you! Show yourselves!" Caspian was raging from where he was bound hand and foot, back bent painfully. It didn't stop him from frothing at the mouth, eyes wide and bugging, muscles straining, predictably.

Edmund was shaking off his headache, deducing that it had been magic that knocked them out and delivered them where ever they were.

"Caspian, get ahold of yourself," he snapped, tiring of the way the King was rolling around, fearing that at any moment his shoulders may snap from the sockets.

There was an animalistic growl as burning black eyes focused on him, "I shall kill them. All of them, rip their throats out, dance in their entrails!"

Lucy gasped at the image he was painting, then she got angry, "You'll do no such thing."

The sound of her voice seemed to snap him from some of his fury, "My appologies Queen Lucy, but I will kill them. And enjoy it. I hope you will not witness it though, but if you do, I will not stop anyway."

Edmund was working at his bindings, feeling how tight they were, concentraiting. Hissing as he tugged his thumb coming loose from the joint, "Shit!"

"Ed?" she sounded worried, twisting her head this way and that to get a better look at him.

"It's nothing Lucy, hush," in the background Caspian was muttering to himself, meanwhile Edmund continued contorting his arms until there was another crack.

Too soon though those bodyless voices came again, and took Lucy away.

That was when Edmund lost it, Caspian and he both snarling like animals trying to get loose. A blow to his head silenced Caspian momentairly, then renewed his struggling. Edmund's elbow jerked and he was picked up by something unseen and thrown to a featureless black wall, stunning him. Rolling over with a wriggling flip, he moved closer to Caspian, so they were back to back. He was through playing around.

"Caspian!" when their unseen captors left - well he assumed they were gone at least - "Caspian - listen to me!"

There was a deep rumble that sounded like it may have been "What?"

"Can you feel my hands?"

His friend stilled then inched backwards until their fingers were touching, "Yes." There was probing at his hands then he could almost see Caspian's sympathetic wince, "Your thumb and wrist are dislocated."

"I know. Grab the rope between my wrists as fimly as you can, I'm going to try and get free," waiting until Caspian had a good grip, Edmund jerked and then howled as his left arm finished coming loose. Panting and whimpering through the black spots moving over his vision through an effort of sheer willpower managed to get his arm free. The sudden slack in his bindings from his mangled left arm being dislocated and slipping from the rope gave him enough room to get his other arm free.

"Brother?" Caspian's voice was concerned.

"I'm free, give.. just give me a minute," fighting off shock and hoping he wasn't concussed from being thrown headfirst into a wall. Sitting up with great difficulty, room dipping this way and that, Edmund worked one handed at his the ties on his feet. Tossing the rope aside, he then set to work on Caspian, the work difficult without the use of both hands. It took awhile, but every minute was precious - every minute was time that their jailors could be hurting Lucy. That was not allowable, he'd failed his family enough times, and refused to ever do it again. Ever. Woe betide those who sought to sway him because he'd rend them. Looking at Caspian's sweaty brow, at how wild his eyes were - maybe he'd just throw anyone stupid enough to try and use him against his family to Caspian. He was sure the King would welcome a good gorefest more than himself, being as he was the more natively violent between the two of them. For Edmund had seen enough violence in his combined lifetimes to last centuries, and had lost his taste for it - even though he still maintained all the skills.

As soon as he was free, Caspian turned to him, grabbing Edmund's shoulder and arm before he could even react. Then with a swinging twisting motion, Ed's arm snapped into place. Momentairly he blacked out, left side screaming in agony, but an experimental twitch showed that everything was back in place.

"Thanks," dragging himself to his feet.

"Do not mention it," Caspian was at the opposite wall, hands running along it, face scowling in concentraition.

"No, thanks - I really mean it Caspian, my joints were -"

"I said, do not mention it," it was snapped.

Frowning, "What's wrong with you brohter?"

Caspian spared him a glance, then went back to his inpsection, "I do not like bindings at all, Miraz used to tie me up and put me in a closet when I misbehaved. One time I managed to get free, but of course I did not get free undamaged." There was a crack as Caspian hitched his shoulder and for the first time Edmund noticed how one was broader than the other.

"He was a cruel bastard," concurring with Caspian, then did his best to help looking for an exit.

"How did you two get free?" the voice was oily, and Edmund spun about too fast trying to find the source of it. The voice also sounded more intelligent - which may or may not be a good thing.

Caspian caught Edmund before he could launch towards the disembodied voice, "Where is our sister?" It felt odd that Caspian was suddenly the calm one, but a sidelong look showed that while he may seem cool at the surface, it would take not even a blink before he'd let the madness loose at the wrong answer, "Where have you taken her?"

"I have taken her nowhere at all," if Edmund concentraited he noticed that there was a faint shimmer when the voice spoke that outlined a vaguely human shape.

"I don't think so," Edmund stared, trying to provoke another series of speech so he could see if he'd been right about the shimmer. "If you don't return her, I'll let Caspian do something sudden, and appallingly violent to your person."

Caspian's lips pulled back into a dark grin, making him look disturbing indeed, "Oh goody brother. I like sudden, and appallingly violent things. Please, can I? Can I, can I please?" mocking as though he were a small spoilt child.

There as a scuff as the presence had started to shift, and it was all Caspian had seemed to need, for he pounced. Edmund was quick to follow suit, pummeling the unseen form, while Caspian restrained it. Pained groans and whimpers as Ed went for the money, searching for any weakspots.

"Reaveal yourself," it was growled periodically by Caspian, as Edmund continued to work steadily, working it over carefully with fists and short kicks.

"Mercy mercy!" it whined eventually.

Edmund had figured where it's neck was a bit ago but hadn't done anything about it. Now he did.

Hand like a steel vise wrapped tight over the pudgy thing, his voice easy - almost friendly, "Mercy is something I used to be known for. But just this once I'll dig a bit to see if I have any for you." Cocking his head, smiling, "I'll leave it up to my brother here. What say you Caspian?"

"Well invisible thing - do you or do you not know where our sister is?"

There was a gagging sound, "No!"

"Hmmm," Caspian grinned, "then brother, I do not think I have mercy for him. And neither should you..."

"Wait, wait!"

Edmund eased his grip, "Yes?"

"I can.. I can find out... take you.. to..."

Edmund released the invisible thing, coming back with the rope used to bind them earlier, "Then I suppose I have some softness left in my heart afterall."

* * *

Caspian, being the more physically sound between the two of them, wasn't holding the unseen being. Edmund kept a good grip on the rope he'd tied the arms and neck of the creature with. There were thump-thumps and lots of macabre giggles coming from up ahead. Shoving the creature to the wall, Edmund waited as Caspian crept forward, a hand braced against the wall, head cocked listening.

"Are you sure this is the way to Lucy?" Edmund's voice was soft, but deadly.

"If the creatures have her this is probably where they would go," whining.

"Probably isn't good enough," keeping an ear out for trouble. "And why would they take her this way anyway?"

Caspian bolted back towards him, "No good, sounds like too many. We need our weapons." The King made a blade of his hand, thrusting it into the diaphragm of their captive's torso, forcing the air to expload from it, "Where are our weapons? I will not play anymore games. My brother went easy on you - I shall not."

It took several moments to catch it's but it finally spoke, "Back to where you were held."

Edmund was unsruprised by Caspian's reaction, the creature being lifted by it's arms being yanked painfully so it could barely move. Between the two of them they dragged the thing along with them, going for maxiumum damage to it's person. In a small alcove there weapons rested in neat piles, along with quite a few other sets. Poking through them quickly, Ed noticed that none of them were of the Telmarine/Narnian design of Caspian's soldiers.

"Caspian, take a look at this," moving away while rearming himself, taking a few extra weapons - just for the fun of it.

The mad King relinquished his hold on the creature, and went to the tables, nabbing a simple dagger with a floral seal embossed on the hilt. It was tilted this way and that then flipped into the air, caught then grunting out, "This belonged to my father's advisor Lord Krispen. He was banished years ago. Hmph." Shrugging, "It matters not, he is probably long since dead. Now, back to business creature - where is our sister?"

This time there was soft squeal of fear, and it took Edmund some doing to keep hold of it, as it wriggled at Caspian's approach, the Lord Krispen's blade in hand.

"In the Room! In the Room!" before the sharp end touched where it's stomach probably was.

"The room? Where is this room? Which room? There are many rooms I would think," the knife moved inexorpably closer. "I wonder if your blood is invisible as well?"

"Summoning Room! Please Master, please! Spare Oofa I'll help!" the fight was long gone from it, now all that held it up was Edmund's strength.

Edmund shoved it a bit, "Then lead on critter, before Caspian makes creature-steaks out of you."

* * *

The sound of crying was making him agitated. It was far too familiar, Not-Jadis had spent alot of time with his 'siblings' and there'd been alot... of crying. Some of it had been his own, mostly on the inside - Not-Peter's look of utter disappointment had driven him to both scream internally as well as externally. But the cries outside were of rage, of how his older brother always looked at him with such an emotin. Like Edmund could never be good enough. Squashing the roiling emotions with practiced ease, Edmund took several calming breaths.

"What's going on in there?" leaning over their captive, mouth close to where it's ear was he supposed.

"They want her to read," it shivered.

Giving it a light shake, "Read what?"

"Brother, I think we should simply kick the door in and -"

"Caspian now's not the time to just bull ahead. Stop acting like Peter," snapping waspishly. Turning back to it, "Now, what is it that you want her to read?"

"Spells..." muttered.

Caspian's knife made a lightening fast reappearance, "What... sort of _spells?"_

"To fix us..."

Edmund watched as Caspian sputtered, his face going red, "Fix you? I shall fix you..."

"Wait," halting his friend's attack with the soft word. "Vengance later - we need to get Lucy out and get out of here first." The words cost him, but both of them needed to think clearly. Or at least as clearly as they could. "So, friend, how many do you think are in there, hmm?"

"I don't know," it hitched a sob.

Giving it a smack to the 'back' of it's head (or he assumed it was the back of it's head, to tell the truth he wasn't even sure of it's general shape really), Edmund thrust it towards the door, "Fine then, you get to go first."

"Ah, human shield, I like the way you think brother," it was humourless, as Rhindon hissed from it's sheath. With that the door infront of them was kicked in, by a grinning Caspian, as Edmund shoved their captive before them.

"Helloooo folks!" smiling cheerily. "Nice to see you - well. I don't really see you, but that's neither here nor there!" A quick glance around the room showed Lucy standing before a podium with a large book on it - and several bleeding cuts. Fighting down the anger that illicited, Edmund plowed on, "So, hey Luce, how's it going? I see you're in a bit of a spot. Well, Caspian and I are here to save the day."

"As usual," grinning.

"Yes, as usual. Now, Caspian, why don't you go and cut her loose for me?"

As Caspian was moving to do just that, "STOP!" Edmund's hackles rose, there was a crackling in the air, and the voice that had bellowed, toned down yet was still commanding, "You will allow her to finish the spell."

"And why should we do that?"

"Because if you do not, she will die from the energies already released," Edmund whispered understanding that much from what was going on. The air was charged, skittering light was shooting like static electricity from Lucy who was sobbing her way through the rest of the spell. A thunderclap and a tearing sound like thick fabric being ripped filled the room.

With a scream Lucy uttered the last syllable, "Dominonum!"

Silence rushed in, thick like cotton, and gravity seemed to shift, tilting to the side then stepping between a crack in reality, everything snapped back into place.

Glancing around the room, Edmund contained a flinch - creatures that were vaguely humanoid, with two arms and one leg, a two faces - one on the 'head' and a second blinking from portruding stomachs, were hopping up and down about them. The one he was holding looked a bit more human, but only just, as though it had been a cross between a minatour and a man who's features had melted. It looked terrified.

Willowy tall and handsome, a man stepped from an unseen door, his long red hair cascading down to his knees, a robe of soft violet silk moving with each step, "Hello King Caspian and Reaver, pleasant to meet you finally. I am sorry I was unable to assist you both earlier. At times my servants are abit," shrugging delicately, "enthusastically stupid?"

AN2: Thanks to Autumnspice for the general kicking about of bunnies and ideas on this.

Hey you know you wanna stroke my ego, c'mon - stroke it. Feed my deflated sense of accomplishment and hit the review button.


	14. Bad Moon Rising 11

Chapter 11:

Chapter 11: Bad Moon Rising

AN: Thanks to Rasputina's rendition of Bad Moon Rising, I have quite a good tone for this chapter. And the next... and the next... Eventually I should make some fanmix or whatever the heckumacallit that people do to say what they write fic to...

**Dedication: To Afxk - the 100th reviewer! Holy green guacamole! **Not that that was much of a prize, but hey, I got so many fics in the air right now, but later when things have died down a bit, Afxk will be getting a reward fic! Promise.

* * *

Harken was sipping from a small glass cup looking elegant. There was something hypnotic to him, that Caspian couldn't quite place his finger on.

"Supplies? Oh don't be silly, I'd be happy to assist in any way I can," his laugh was warm, head tipped back eyes scrunched closed.

Clearing his throat, Lucy tucked in close to his side, "Even so Magician, I would be remiss if I did not pay you for such things."

"Harken, the name's Harken my dear," nimble fingers made a little glowing pattern as he spelled it out in the air - backwards so it could be read by those looking at it. "And my King, after all that you and your men, as well as the little Queen," gesturing sadly, "have gone through at the hands of my servants, it is the least that I can do."

Caspian shifted, picking at the food on the plate before him, "That is appreciated to be sure, but I do not like to feel beholden to anyone."

"Hmm... then perhaps a different arrangement could be achieved?" Harken leaned forward, chin in his hand, staring off into the distance intently. "I have been having some problems lately, there have been sightings of strange things in these waters and they disturb me. If on your way back you could come and tell me some of the things you've seen, it would be welcome."

Edmund raised an eyebrow, looking to Caspian, a lightening fast conference happening between the two, almost sharing one mind on this. Both thought it was a good idea, yet both thought it was a bad one. Something just seemed off. Yet not the dangerous sort.

Lucy actually seemed to quite like Harken and got up, to explore the dining room seeming none the worse for wear after her ordeal.

"What sort of problems have you been having?" Edmund probed, as Caspian watched both the Magician and Lucy.

"Well there it's hard to say," Harken's gaze flicked over to Lucy, an indulgent smile on his face, "I see you've found my looking glass." Rising gracefully, he went closer to the Valiant Queen, a hand landing on her shoulder, "Would you like to see how it works?"

"What does it show?" Lucy's face brightened.

Tapping it with a finger, then spiralling from the center out with the tip of a nail, "Anything you like. Hmm... how about... oh why don't you pick?"

"Susan - I want to know how she's doing!"

Caspian flinched internally, longing for nothing more than to see his Queen.

"Hmmm," Harken tilted his head, then his fingers twisted into an odd pattern, "Queen Susan."

There was a glow, bluish then violet then green, swirling across the silver. It came into focus, and there she was. It was just her face, and she was looking very intent, a small frown upon her face, teeth sinking into the pink flesh of her bottom lip. Caspian's stomach dropped out from the bottom, and his soul cried out - his Queen. His love. Shaking, Caspian got up from his chair, coming to stand next to Harken.

Whispering, "Does it tell you where she is? Is she well?"

Harken turned to look at him, thoughtful, "I can only get a very light fix on her my King. If I had something that belonged to her it's possible I could do better. But..."

His heart was hammering so hard, Caspian thought he'd be unmanned.

"But..." Harken's voice was gentle, kind, "I can do something almost as good."

"What...?" feeling Edmund's hand on his elbow, the support all that kept him from collapsing.

"A moment," Harken left the three of them standing there, staring at Susan's face. Every now and then she'd look away, her lips moving, but no sound would come.

Lucy and Edmund retreated from him, allowing him to simply stare at Susan's face. Three years, three hellish years, and all he'd had were memories and faded inaccurate paintings. Before him was his Queen. Trembling, Caspian stroked the planes shown through the looking glass.

There was a hustle and bustle behind him, then a smaller mirror was presented to him, "This is a fragment of my old mirror. It's a shame they don't last very long, tend to shatter. Particularly when strong forces move through them regularly."

"I... I cannot... take that, I am sorry - it is too great a gift Sir Harken," though Caspian wished to take it more than anything.

"Nonsense, now look, see here," a nimble hand grasped his, pressing the shard to his roughened palm, "If you say her name before you sleep, and deposit three drops of your blood on it, you will be able to join her for a while as you rest. That is if she sleeps as well." Fingers kept it held to his palm, while the Magician's free hand cupped his chin, forcing him to look into eyes the colour of gold, "I know love when I see it. And I know pain such as yours - it radiates from you in waves my King. Take it, I would wish to ease that which I see in you. Otherwise it will crush you."

Looking into those eyes, and how concerned they were, the kindness, "Thank you. I cannot thank you enough then Sir Harken."

"It is nothing to me, but if it helps you - then it is useful and good," smiling softly.

* * *

He did have something that belonged to her, but Susan's things were too precious to share with others. Even though Harken had taken him aside after their conversation, reminding him that if Caspian were to have something of hers that a stronger link could be forged. Caspian held the sliver of mirror in his hand, it looked so simple. Brushing a finger over her horn that hung at his hip, it was as though Harken hadn't even noticed that either. It didn't matter though.

Harken had left him with one warning - not to use it too often otherwise it would break. And Caspian knew he may have to keep it safe for a very long time before he'd have a chance to see Susan in the flesh. Cutting that thought off - he couldn't count on Aslan to return Susan to him. Not ever.

There was a brisk knock at his door, and Lucy popped her head in, "Hellooo!"

Smiling as he pocketed the small treasure, "You seem in high spirits."

"Because I am!" she hopped into his lap, giving him a hug.

"And why would that be little sister?" squeezing her in his strong arms. She was a little piece of Susan, bright and happy - he wondered if Susan had been like Lucy at her age.

Beaming, "You got to see her! That's why! Well that and Harken told me he'd show me some tricks later if I'm up."

"Tricks?" the Magcian seemed far from harmless, yet for some reason that eased Caspian. It had been his experience that the dangerous things were more predictable, and that would be better in this situation, than being lulled by the apparently peaceful winding up being horrifically violent.

"Yes," Lucy wiggled around until her back was to his chest, legs kicking the air, her head on his shoulder. "He said he'd show me how to use the mirror myself - and that if when I was older I wanted one, then he'd make me one! Isn't it grand?"

Sometimes he wondered at how childlike Lucy was, she wasn't so little anymore as to need to clamber all over him or others for that matter. Yet she got too much enjoyment from it, and Caspian did too truth be known. She was soothing, easy to love, and easy to care for like this. In the years since the Pevensies had gone, he'd been alone, and his little sister was dong what she always did best - chip away at all the grumpy adultness around her. Even if he thought she may do it on purpose at times, it's benefit was too good to ignore.

Plopping a kiss on the crown of her head, "Yes that is a wonderful thing indeed. But why would you wish to have such a thing?"

"Oh so I could show you Su whenever you wanted," shrugging, "or maybe so I could talk to Peter. Or maybe Father. I'd like that. Harken says that someone really strong can do that. And that someone even stronger can send things through a glass."

"Oh?"

"It has to be a big glass though, 'it must be one of comparable size to the object being pulled through and it can't be done by simple will alone'," taking on the Magician's tone and body-language.

Laughing, "You seem to quite like the Magician."

To that Lucy blushed, "Pishaw - boys are yucky."

"That is what Peter says I am sure," hugging her once more, "and that is what I say as well! Too yucky for you my Queen - though I hope I am not?" catching the look on her face, Caspian poked her, receiving a poke in return, which promptly turned into a tickle-fest.

The howling and giggling coming from both of them had Edmund bursting in, weapons drawn, eyes wild.

"Ed?" Lucy's voice suddenly quiet.

He gave himself a shake, and focused on them, "Sorry, it's just the unfamiliar surroundings. When do you think we could go back to the _Dawn Treader_?"

"Would you rest easier there brother?" ignoring the spacious quarters around them, the three looked at eachother.

Lucy offered, "I like it here, but it is really big. And there's lots of those poor creatures that Harken's been caring for - they're quite distressing. He said that they used to be men before a Magician experimented on them. So he's taking care of them trying to figure out how to fix them."

Caspian hadn't heard this bit of information yet, "Is that so? Fix them..."

"Harken put a spell on them so they didn't have to look at eachother - they were scaring themselves badly, and hurting eachother. So he made them invisible," she sounded proud of the Magician, almost as though she approved. "They thought it was all his fault, and to counteract the spell they needed a female to read it. So that's where I came in..."

Grunting, Caspian let Lucy slip from his arms getting up to pace, "You do not think it odd that they would fear him?"

"Well no, they're pretty well.. it's not nice to say 'stupid' but it's a good word for it," Lucy picked at the hem of a dress Harken had given her.

Edmund was leaning with his back to the wall, arms crossed, eyes closed, "I have to agree with Luce on that, I did some poking around and our host may be a bit... strange... but he takes good care of those things."

"What about the others who have obviously been here though before?" that bothered Caspian as he cleaned beneath his nails with Lord Krispen's dagger.

"I don't know," Ed shrugged, a blue-brown eye cracking open, "That's part of why I want to go back to the 'Treader."

Lucy huffed in irritation, "Well who knows? But Harken isn't likely to lie I don't think. He's a bit weird, but he's nice. Not fake nice either. Oh don't give me that look Ed!" throwing her hands up in the air at her brother's raised brow. "I think you're just being silly frankly. I for one wish to have a night in a real bed. Just once. It's been two months already, and I just..." there was a hiccup.

Caspian was alarmed at this, he hadn't realized she wasn't happy aboard the Dawn Treader, "Lucy, it is alright, come," grabbing her into a tight hug. "if you wish to stay tonight, then so shall I if it will please you little one."

Knuckling an eye, "I'm okay, really. It's just.. it's... I'm tired, I'm sorry. I want to walk around, I want to not feel so confined... just for a day or so. Please?"

Rocking side to side, unable to deny the little Queen much of anything, "Of course."

Afterall, he could use some 'real' rest himself.

* * *

Caspian balanced the tip of Krispen's dagger on his thickly calloused finger. It was well past midnight, Lucy was asleep, and even Edmund seemed to be resting easy. The blade started to wobble, and Caspian shifted his arm just a hair, keeping the weapon expertly upright. A children's game he'd played long ago, seeing how long he could hold something sharp and deadly - many of the scars he bore on the tips of his fingers came from such things. Should he try to sleep? It had been days he mused since he'd closed his eyes. Manic energy was what usually kept him going, but even so, he still was naught but a man, and needed sleep. Tonight though he had a decision to make. Would he use Harken's gift? Or would he simply force his eyes to close - for he wouldn't take any of his poppyjuice laden whiskey this night, for he was in unfamiliar surroundings, and should be able to be at least semi-alert.

There was a soft knock upon his door, but since it did not burst open immediately, Caspian knew it wouldn't be Lucy or Edmund.

"Come in," his voice pitched to only carry just far enough.

It opened a bit, enough for Harken to lean in partially, "I was wondering if there was anything you needed? It's seldom that I get to really entertain guests you know."

Gesturing for the Magician to enter further, "No I am quite fine thankyou. But I did wish to ask you a few questions if I may?"

"Of course," gliding into the room, tapping his chin while surveying it briskly. Walking about it in a slow circle then flopping in boneless grace into a chair, "What did you wish to know?"

Flipping Krispen's dagger in the air, and catching it, "This dagger belonged to a Lord Krispen. He was one of my fathers advisors."

"You don't say?" twirling one of his long locks about his finger, shifting on the chair. "I wonder how it got here then. But I come and go so often, it's hard to keep track of everything." Amber eyes closing for a moment, full mouth pouting in thought, "It's possible that he may have run afoul of my charges. Either that or it may be something brought by the pirates that ply these waters. I trade with them frequently you know."

The open admission to illegal activity should have put him on edge, instead it amused Caspian, "Pirates? That sounds lively. Have there been any recent sightings?"

Harken tipped his head back, slumping further in the chair, fine leather leggings revealed beneath the purple robes he wore as he draped a leg over the arm of his seat, "That's part of what's been disturbing me lately. I've not seen hide nor hair of them in some months. Actually," one eye blinked open lazily, "it's really been two years - odd I hadn't thought that much time had passed. Oh well. Time flies and all that." Gesturing while snapping a soft word, "Nyritonil," and a decanter of something spicy and alcoholic appeared. Swirling his fingers the cut crystal poured into midair where a wine-flute appeared, to be caught in the Magician's hand, gently. A sip, as Caspian watched all this careless display, then, "Not only that but I've been sensing disturbances in the fabric of reality. Great ones, tears that shake the foundation of this world. It's been positive centuries since I've felt the like. Well no, again, I forgot - how remiss of me, I must be getting senile - three years ago there was one. Then recently another. And just the other day, I felt something again..."

Caspian didn't feel it wise to mention the fact that three years ago the Pevensies had come to Narnia. Or that a few moths ago that Edmund and Lucy had returned once more. Leaning forward, hands on his knees, "Do you think these things may be interrconnected?"

"Oh," a delighted laugh, "of course they are. Everything is in the long run. If you live long enough everything circles back. Hmm but it's doubtful you'd live as long as I. You haven't enough Talent to do so. But, that's neither here, nor there," waving airily.

The Magician's arrogance was almost... refreshing... here was a man who was secure in his power and didn't really care what others thought about him. Nor did he make any bones about his ambiguous ethics. Yet at the same time he seemed decent enough - afterall Lucy liked him, and she was probably the soundest judge of character that Caspian had ever come across.

"So the missing pirates, a few tears in the fabric of reality - anything else I should worry about? Like the world ending? Or maybe that I am going bald," Caspian jibed just a touch, relaxing.

Harken's lips curled at the corners, "That'd be an interesting sight. But you my dear, don't have to worry about that anytime soon I should think."

"Ah good, otherwise I would have to request whatever serum you use on yours..." waving at the heavy sheaf of hair that hung about the Magician in ruby waves.

"Oh I know - I'm so vain, but a fellows got to have a few vices," snickering. "Besides, what else would I do with the Power that I have?"

Refraining from pointing out that Harken could use it to help others, Caspian leaned back on his hands, looking at the ceiling, "I cannot guarantee we shall be coming back this way, but if we are and are able to, I will see what can be done about the few problems you have mentioned. Though," shrugging minutely, "I do not think a simple King can do much about disturbances in reality."

Rustling as Harken rose to leave, "That's quite alright, but anything you observe or learn would be welcome. As are you and your crew. Now, if that is all I have a few things to attend to for the night."

Nodding, eyes slit as he watched the man leave, "Good evening to you then."

Before the door closed behind him, "Remember - three drops. And it'll only work if her mind's receptive - either from sleep, or another type of relaxed state."

Caspian sat there for long moments, watching the door. It was as though Harken was aware of his inner struggle. Reaching into the place by his heart where he'd tucked the fragment away - vowing to think of a safer place to put it later - Caspian pulled it out. The shard looked so simple. Just like a piece of any broken mirror. Tilting it this way and that, catching sight of his own haggard appearance, Caspian frowned. He looked disreputable, dirty and unshaven. Sighing, he got up, gingerly putting the fragment down to think about later. First things first he needed to clean up some - even if he didn't wind up using the magical instrument.

The chambers he'd been given were the height of modern convenience - there was even a bathing-room instead of just a wash basin. Inside there was a small pool that was filled to the brim, and it looked big enough for ten. Caspian shook his head at the extravagance. Peeling his worn clothes, wrinkling his nose when he realized he'd worn them several times too many, then tossed them aside. Testing the water with a finger, he found it warmer than he'd expected - he should ask Harken how such things were managed, otherwise it may be magic. But, it was possible there was some mechanical way of doing all that. Random musing aside, he slipped into the water, sighing in relief. How long had it been since he'd had a bath?

Leaning his head on the lip of the basin, he let himself go for just awhile. Caspian's body's needs made themselves known as stress sped from his muscles, the aches and pains from the days travails being lapped away by the buoyant water. Eyes closed, Caspian breathed deeply, adjusting his rapidly forming erection. Privacy was a thing of the past recently after the appearance of Lucy and Edmund so he'd been unable to sate himself as often as was his preference - even if his satisfactions were hollow, his body still had demands. Sighing, wrapping long fingers around the shaft, throwing his free arm above his head to hang off the side of the tub, Caspian thought about Susan.

About her mouth, those full lips whispering his name. Of how her hands had stroked his shoulders and chest, mouth fastened to his, their tongues tangling. Floating freely, the scrape of callous on the underside of his length, fingers squeezing and flexing rhythmically, his weight heavy in his hand. How soft Susan's breasts were, how firm and how good her nipples had felt as they poked his chest when he rode her. The warm water reminded him of the slippery slickness of her juices, and Caspian let out a groan. It wouldn't take him long to come, but Caspian held off, taking pleasure where he could, for it may be a long time before he had another night to himself. Calming his already ragged breathing, swallowing, then letting go of his prick, to fondle his velvety sac, massaging it, hefting it lightly. Susan had been a bit fond of his testicles, and he quirked a smile at that - he'd never payed much attention to that part of his body, but after the few times she'd sucked him he'd changed his mind about that. Rolling their weight, remembering how her slender nimble fingers had caressed him as her mouth would open wider to take more of his cock, tongue lashing at his tip. Unable to keep from biting his lip, Caspian continued to torture himself with light touches.

Rolling over as he floated in the water, head still propped up on the ledge, the angle was a bit uncomfortable but he didn't really care. Using his free hand, Caspian pushed his foreskin back, revealing the crown of his penis, thumb stroking circles over the tip. Squeezing firmly at his testicles, while using short pressing strokes over the head of his manhood, a few harsh moans welling up from deep in his chest. As a wake-up call, Susan had done this to him that morning, her hands busy over his body, her lips on the back of his neck. She was skillful and seemed to know his needs better than he had - that was the best morning of his life he decided, even as he thrust against his hands. A little whimper, his face creasing in concentration, his abdomen tightening. His blood was thick and hot as it raced through his veins. Caspian sped up his ministrations, thinking about Susan's curvy body, and how her thighs felt pressing to him. Wishing - for many reasons - that Susan was there, he'd want to have her beneath him as he came, because he was close, so very close, as he grunted, nearing a point where he'd be unable to stop. If she were there, Caspian would be over her, stroking himself, bringing himself to completion, with her hands and words urging him on. Gritting his teeth, painful electricity tingled at the base of his spine and from his sex, he would let his release loose all over her stomach, marking her as his.

Gasping, "Yes... yes..." then a rolling growl, "Susan..." as his orgasm welled up, unstoppable.

Grunting, Caspian shoved away from the lip of the bath, and just kept his eyes closed, daydreaming that Susan was in the water with him somewhere. He'd take his relief as far as he could. Dunking his head under, letting out a string of bubbles, and opening his eyes, Caspian debating taking in a deep breath. But he wasn't a coward, and he sat up, water pouring from the crown of his head down his shoulders and chest. Eventually he'd find Aslan and make his demands - and if He didn't grant him what he needed... Well Edmund was there to help. Glancing around Caspian spied what he assumed was soap and got clean quickly, then scraped his stubble from his face with the knife he'd brought in with him, done with his empty solace. But... maybe he'd try the mirror tonight.

Clambering free of the marble and grabbed a towel off a convient rack, drying himself off. Draping it over a shoulder, head cocked to the side as he made his way back into what was to be his bedroom for the night, roughly rubbing the cottony material against his hair, eyeing the silvered glass in speculation. Picking it up, Caspian hefted it in his palm, trying to decide.

"It would be just three drops..." muttering. Licking his lips, "Just three... no more than a pinprick... oh Caspian what is wrong with you?" huffing at himself.

He was reluctant to use it - how many times could it function before breaking?

With a sigh, Caspian moved to put it away, but it slipped and with a hiss as a sharp edge nicked him. Cursing Caspian switched hands quickly - and saw one perfect drop laying on its smooth surface. Looking from the tiny cut on his finger, with little tears welling up then to the glass... Before he could question his motivations, Caspian let two more fall next to the first on the mirror.

"Susan..." following the rest of Harken's instructions.

Sudden lethargy swept over him, but not so strong he couldn't fight it. Stumbling the rest of the way to his bed, he collapsed, still damp from his bath, curled into a ball and slept.

* * *

Everything looked distant, a bit foggy, but it all slowly came into focus. He was in a room, plaster walls, bare wood floors, and a small bed. It was so spartan - but a small vanity held soft feminine mysteries along with a wide paddle brush. Next to it there was a tall slender bookcase - and Caspian smiled. This must be Susan's room. Taking a deep breath, a familiar scent washed over him.

"Caspian?"

Turning and there she was, standing there a confused look on her beautiful face, hand on the doorknob.

Unable to contain the grin that tugged his features, "Susan..."

She practically tackled him, squeezing him tight. His arms wrapped around her just as strongly, crushing her to him. He didn't want to tell her that this was more than a dream, he couldn't bring himself to. What if this was the only way he'd ever see her again? Why bring her hopes up, why tell her of his quest when it may prove fruitless? So he just held her, burying his face in her hair.

Susan was dressed strangely, a gray skirt that showed off part of her shapely legs, yet made her look frumpy. It was very unlike her, but he didn't care. Cupping her cheek, tilting her face up, Caspian just looked into those eyes of the deepest sky blue. How he'd hated blue of late, the colour hurting more than anything... Yet Susan's eyes drew him in, filling him up, as they shined. His mouth captured her lips, moving over them, tenderly exploring her mouth.

Breaking apart, resting his forehead against hers, "You are beautiful and such a balm to my soul."

"Caspian.." sighing, fingers gripping his shoulders, and he realized he was wearing the same clothes he had on the day she'd left him. How strange he must look in this small little room with its custard painted walls, its worn floor, and tiny bed. "I miss you so much Caspian."

Tugging at the ties to her braid, Caspian worked her hair loose, "And I you my love. I think of you every minute of every day. Know that. And know how much I love you."

Her locks were like heavy mahogany silk, and he ran his fingers through them, reveling in the cool feeling of it against his skin. Harken's gift was phenomenal, it was allowing him to not just see Susan, but to hear her, to feel her, to smell her. Allowing Susan to leave his arms, Caspian watched as she moved around the room, a small chest of drawers being opened and closed, the clothes she was wearing removed and hung up.

"You can sit anywhere you like Caspian," tossing over her shoulder while tugging on a short dress.

Drinking her in as he made himself comfortable on her bed - other than her vanity there was no where else to sit, "Those underthings look strange. What are they?"

"Huh? Oh!" gesturing at her chest - now covered by the dark gray dress, "Well um... I wear a brassier - it's like a corset and instead of bloomers I wear panties. Clothes are different here in case you didn't notice."

"Oh I did, it is very odd," just soaking up her presence. "I like seeing your knees though, but it is quite scandalous, do you not think so?"

She laughed, "Here girls show them all the time."

"Then the men must be driven to constant distraction."

"What? By seeing knees? Don't be silly, there's nothing sexy about knees Caspian," picking up the brush she started to drag it quickly through her hair.

"I think your knees are quite alluring, mainly because they belong to you," pointing out. "Stop," his voice soft yet commanding not liking how Susan jerked the brush through her tresses.

"Caspian?" halting mid-stroke to look at him questioningly.

Waving his hand, "Come, come let me do that," making room on the bed so she could sit between his knees. How many times had he thought of doing that for her? Time passed and it felt like heavenly hours, their voices quiet in the room, not really talking about anything at all. Curling around Susan, Caspian just enjoyed this, and it seemed to do her as much good as it did him. Even knowing that when he awoke he wouldn't be holding her tightly any longer, or that he may never get to see her in the flesh ever again... this... this was peace...

Eventually as they lay there, face to face, his arm pillowing their heads, free hand stroking her arm or her cheek periodically, his eyes started to blink open and shut. It wasn't like he was sleepy exactly...

"Caspian I love you... please know that... wherever you are... I know this is a dream... but.. I love you Caspian, I'll always be with you," murmuring against the knuckles of his hand as she held it to her lips.

"I know Susan, I know..." as he slid farther into a dreamless state, still enveloped in the sense of security Susan gave him even in this state.

* * *

AN: Dundundun... Who likes Harken? C'mon tell me tell me! So... what y'all think will happen next?

Reviews? Ego stroking? Flames or praise? C'mon gimme sum luv. It's always welcome... So press de review button thingamajigy down there.


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